jwiii^|)i^^P)i^ipp.,  ^^^ ,  .>t)t^ii,,u.!4P^wg?ffapp|fip|i 


.--  r^-^-; 


U  ■■  .■.,:...   .       *-.»1t.:mK-^ 


19GS. 

A 


iiT-MTi  i-Tia.rofl' 


raf  e  14-2 


SITCOUNIEB.  :BEr,^7EEir  A\TLT,TA7J  THE  CONQUEROR  . 
^J-TIjBI£  SOlTPvOBEB.!. 


ti^i-^ss  m:^A  iy:n.M^'M:Mrtm^n, 


,^ 


TALES 

OP 

A   GRANDFATHER, 

iTouvtii  S^zxltH ; 

BEING 

STORIES 

TAKEN  FROM  THE 

HISTORY   OF    FRANCE. 

INSCRIBED   TO 

MASTER  JOHN  HUGH  LOCKHART. 

IN  TWO  VOLS. 

VOL.  I. 


BY  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  WAVERLEY,"  &C.  &C. 


Sorter,  M*  1§. 

PUBLISHED  BY  J.    &   B.  WILLIAMS. 
1833. 


TO 


MASTER  JOHN  HUGH  LOCKHART. 


My  Dear  Boy, 
I  MUST  no  longer  treat  you  as  a  child ;  so  I 
now  lay  aside  the  pet  appellation  of  Hugh  Lit- 
tlejohn,  Esq.  and  address  you  by  your  name. 
Heaven,  at  whose  pleasure  we  receive  good  and 
evil — and  we  are  bound  to  receive  both  with 
thanks  and  gratitude — has  afflicted  you  from 
infancy  with  a  delicacy  of  constitution.  With 
this  misfortune  there  are  often  connected  tastes 
and  habits  the  most  valuable  any  man  can  ac- 
quire, but  which  are  indispensable  to  those  wha 
are  liable,  from  indifferent  health,  to  be  occa- 
sionally confrned  to  the  solitude  of  their  own 
apartment.  The  hours  you  now  employ  in  read- 
ing are  passed  happily,  and  render  you  inde- 
pendent of  the  society  of  others,  but  will  yet 
prove  far  more  valuable  to  you  in  futm-e  life, 
since,  if  your  studies  are  well  directed,  and 
earnestly  pursued,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent 
your  rising  to  be  at  once  an  ornament  and  a 
benefit  to  society.  It  is  with  great  pleasure,  my 
dearest  boy,  that  your  parents  remark  in  you 


Ofl^^p^. 


^'^^OX^DO- 


early  attention  to  your  book,  and  a  marked  de- 
sire to  profit  by  what  you  read ;  nor  can  I,  as 
one  of  the  number,  make  a  better  use  of  a  part 
of  my  leisure  time  than  to  dedicate  it  to  your 
advantage  and  that  of  yom*  contemporaries,  who, 
I  trust,  will  play  the^ir  parts  honourably  in  the 
world,  long  after  the  generation  to  which  your 
grandfather  belongs  has  mouldered  into  earth. 

The  volumes  which  I  formerly  inscribed  re- 
lated to  a  part  of  Great  Britain  only  :  but  it  was 
to  that  portion  which  should  be  dear  to  us  both, 
as  the  land  of  our  fathers  ;  and  I  was  therefore 
induced  to  descend  more  into  particulars  than  I 
should  have  ventured  upon  in  any  other  narra- 
tive. I  have  been  assured  from  many  quarters 
that  the  Tales  from  Scottish  History  have  been 
found  useful  and  interesting  to  the  young  per- 
sons to  whom  they  were  addressed,  and  that 
some  even  of  those  whose  wild  spirits  and  youth- 
ful years  had  hitherto  left  them  little  time  or 
inclination  to  study,  have  been  nevertheless  cap- 
tivated by  stories,  which,  w^hile  they  are  ad- 
dressed to  the  imagination,  are,  at  the  same 
time,  mstructive  to  the  understanding. 

It  would  have  been  natural  that  I  should  next 
have  adopted  English  history  as  my  theme  ;  but 
there  are  so  many  excellent  abridgments,  that 
I  willingly  leave  you  to  acquire  a  know^ledge  of 
that  important  subject  from  other  sources.  The 
History  of  England,  in  Letters,  said  to  be  from 
a  nobleman  to  his  son,  and  sometimes  called 
Lord  Lyttelton's  Letters,  but  in  reality  written 
or  compiled  by  Dr.  Oliver  Goldsmith,  gives  the 


liveliest  and  best  views  of  it ;  to  this  you  must, 
in  due  time,  add  the  perusal  of  the  many  and 
interesting  volumes  which  give  a  fuller  account 
of  the  history  of  the  more  important  part  of  our 
island  of  Britain. 

In  the  meantime,  it  is  highly  proper  you 
should  know  something  of  the  history  of  France, 
whose  influence  vipon  the  Continent  of  Europe 
has  almost  always  been  struggling  and  contend- 
ing with  that  of  England  herself,  and  with  such 
obstinacy  as  to  give  rise  to  v/ars  the  most  bloody 
by  which  the  peace  of  the  world  has  been  at 
any  period  disturbed. 

I  have,  as  you  will  observe,  been  occasionally 
called  to  interrupt  the  current  of  the  work  by 
remarks  which  the  incidents  demanded.  Still, 
however,  I  have  endeavoured  to  make  amuse- 
ment the  mode  of  introducing  instruction ;  re- 
membering always  that  I  am  no  longer  writing 
for  the  amusement  of  a  child  of  five  years,  but 
composing  a  work  to  be  submitted  to  the  criti- 
cism of  a  young  person  who  wears  masculine 
garments,  and  will  soon  be  nine  years  old.  Un- 
der these  increasing  dilSiculties,  it  will  give  me 
pleasure  to  find  that  I  still  possess  the  power  to 
interest  and  instruct  you ;  being,  with  warm 
regard, 

My  dear  John  Hugh, 

Your  very  affectionate  Grandfather, 

Walter  Scott. 

Abbotsford,  29th  July,  1830. 
1* 


CONTENTS, 


P&ge 

CHAP.  I. 

The  most  Patriotic  States  have  been  generally  the  most 
Ambitious — Aggressions  of  Rome  upon  the  Indepen- 
dence of  Foreign  Nations — Gaul — its  Description  and 
Inhabitants — Their  Religion — The  Order  of  Druids — 
The  Military  Character  of  the  Gauls — They  invade 
Italy— and  Greece — Their  vicinity  dangerous  to  Rome — 
Caesar  appointed  General  in  Gaul — Resolution  of  the 
Helvetiems  to  emigrate — The  difficulties  of  their  Route-.— 
Caesar  blocks  up  the  passage  between  Geneva  and  Mount 
Jm-a — Pursues  the  Helvetians  as  far  as  the  Arar,  and 
destroys  their  Rear-guard — At  last,  totally  defeats  them 
— The  Germans  cross  the  Rhine  to  invade  Gaul — Their 
Character,  Genius,  and  Manners — The  Roman  Soldiers 
mutiny,  but  are  pacified  by  Caesar's  Address — Ceesar  de- 
feats Ariovistus  and  the  Germans— Conquest  of  Gaul  by 
Caesar, 11 

CHAP.  II. 
Policy  of  the  Romans  towards  the  Conquered  Tribes — 
Human  Sacrifice  Forbidden — Polytheism  introduced — 
Human  Victims  secretly  sacrificed  by  the  Druids — Plans 
of  Insurrection  agitated  at  these  Solemnities — Combina- 
tion among  the  Gallic  Provinces  against  Rome — Expedi- 
tion of  Drusus—Insurreciion  of  Vindex  in  Nero's  time — 
its  Suppression^ — Persecution  of  Christians  in  Gaul  in 
the  reign  of  Severus — Origin  of  the  Franks — Inroads 
of  the  Franks  into  the  Roman  Provinces  in  the  time  of 
Posthumus  and  GalUenus — The  AUemanni  defeated, 
and  Peace  for  a  time  restored  to  Gaul,  by  Julian  the 
Apostate — Radagaisus,  King  of  the  Goths,  invades  Italy, 
is  taken  Captive  with  part  of  his  Army — the  rest  of  his 
Forces  invade  and  ravage  Gaul,        ....       30 


CONTENTS.  Vll 


Page 

CHAP.  III. 

Successive  Tribes  of  Barbarians  by  whom  Europe  was 
overrun — the  Celts  its  original  Settlers — Invasions  of 
the  Goths,  Sarmatians,  and  Alani — Irruption  of  the 
Huns,  who  settle  in  the  Eastern  parts  of  Germany — 
Wars  of  Attila  with  the  Eastern  Empire — League  be- 
tween ^tius,  the  Roman  Patrician,  and  Theodoric, 
King  of  the  Goths — Attila  invades  Gaul,  and  besieges 
Orleans — ^tius  and  Theodoric  advance  against  him, 
and  defeat  his  Army  in  the  Battle  of  Chalons — the  Vic- 
tors suffer  the  defeated  Army  to  retreat,  without  molest- 
ation— Death  of  Attila — Extinction  of  the  Western  Em- 
pire— Erection  of  Italy  into  a  Kingdom,        .        .        .44 

CHAP.  IV. 
Conquests  of  Clovis — his  Conversion  to  Christianity — 
War  between  him  and  Alaric,  King  of  the  Visigoths — 
Defeat  of  the  Goths  at  Poitiers — Laws  and  Customs  of 
the  Franks — Death  of  Clovis — Division  of  his  Empire 
among  his  Sons — The  Saracens  invade  France,  and  are 
repulsed  by  Charles  Martel — The  Merovingian  Race  of 
Kmgs  deposed  by  Pepin,  Foimder  of  the  Carlovingian 
Dynasty — Conquests  of  Charlemagne — Division  of  the 
Empire  among  his  Successors — Invasion  of  the  North- 
men, or  Noimans — Charles  the  Gross  deposed,       .       .    53 

CHAP.  V. 

Elevation  of  Eudes  to  the  Throne  of  France — Disorders 
during  the  reign  of  Charles  £he  Simple — Encroachments 
of  the  Nobility — The  Feudal  System — its  Advantages 
and  Disadvantages — Invasion  of  Rollo,  who  obtains  the 
Duchy  of  Normandy,  and  the  Daughter  of  Charles  the 
Simple  in  Marriage — Death  of  Charles — Reign  of  Louis 
d'Outremer — Descent  of  Hugo  the  Great,  Ancestor  of 
the  Bourbons — Reign  of  Lothaire — War  with  Norman- 
dy, and  with  Germany — Dissatisfaction  of  the  French 
on  account  of  Lothaire's  Treaty  with  Germany — Reign 
of  Louis  the  Faineant,  and  the  last  of  the  Ceurlovingian 
Dynasty, 85 

CHAP.  VI. 
Causes  which  led  to  the  Third  Change  of  Dynasty — Ac- 
cession and  Reign  of  Hugo  Capet,  son  of  Hugo  the 


Vm  CONTENTS. 


Page 

Great — Reign  of  Robert  the  Wise — Dissensions  between 
Robert's  Sons — Accession  of  Henry  I. — Pilgrimage  of 
Robert  Duke  of  Normandy  to  the  Holy  Land — his  Son 
William  (afterwards  the  Conqueror  of  England)  left  at 
the  Head  of  the  Government  of  Normandy — War  be- 
tween Normandy  and  France — Defeat  of  the  French  at 
Mortemart — Pacification  between  the  two  Countries — 
Death  of  Henry  I., 101 

CHAP.  VII. 

Mmority  of  Philip — Origin  of  Cluvalry — Training  of  the 
Young  Knights — Ceremony  of  conferring  Knighthood — 
Duties  of  those  who  acquired  that  Honour — Devotion  to 
the  Fan-  Sex — Wager  of  Battle — Tournaments — Chiv- 
alry took  its  Rise  in  France — its  Institutions  were 
speedily  adopted  by  the  Normans,  who  found  a  Field  for 
the  exercise  of  their  Valour  in  the  Wars  of  Italy — Bra- 
very and  Conquests  of  the  Guiscards — Battle  of  Du- 
razzo, 113 

CHAP.  VIII. 

fcaxon  Conquest  of  England — Saxon  Heptarchy — Court 
of  Edward  the  Confessor — Dislike  between  the  English 
and  Normans — Death  of  Edward,  and  Accession  of  Ha- 
rold— Preparations  of  William  of  Normandy  for  inva- 
ding England — Invasion  and  Defeat  of  Hai'old  of  Nor- 
way— Battle  of  Hastings — Effects  of  the  Norman 
Conquest — Forest  La-vvs — Couvrefeu — The  Language 
changed  by  the  intermixture  of  Norman-French — Intro- 
duction of  Chivalry — Connection  with  Continental  Poli- 
tics, which  was  the  consequence  of  England  falling  into 
the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Normandy,        .        .        .     126 

CHAP.  IX. 

Rebellion  of  Robert  against  his  Father,  William  the  Con- 
queror, instigated  by  Philip  I.  of  France — Profligacy  of 
Philip — Wise  Conduct  of  Louis — Attempt  of  Philip's 
Concubine  to  Poison  Louis — Death  of  Philip — Origin  of 
the  Crusades— Council  of  Clermont — Army  of  Crusa- 
ders led  by  Peter  the  Hermit — its  Disasters — Crusade 
fitted  out  by  the  Four  principal  Monarchs  of  Europe — 
its  Reception  by  the  Greek  Emperor — Capture  of  Nice — 
Battle  of  Dorylccum — Siege  of  Antioch — Siege  and 
Capture  of  Jerusalem — Subjugation  of  Palestine — i^ec- 
tion  of  the  Latin  Kingdom  of  Jerusalem,      .      .       .141 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

CHAP.  X. 

Dissensions  among  the  three  sons  of  Robert  Duke  of  Nor- 
mandy— The  Kingdom  of  England  and  Dukedom  of 
Normandy  united  in  the  person  of  Henry,  the  Youngest 
— War  undertaken  by  Louis  the  Gross,  in  svipport  of 
the  Claim  of  William  Clito,  nephew  of  Henry,  to  Nor- 
mandy— Defeat  of  the  French — Fortunes  of  William 
Clito — his  Death — Death  of  Louis  the  Gross — Acces- 

■  sion  of  Louis  the  Young,  who  undertakes  a  Crusade, 
in  conjunction  with  Conrade,  Emperor  of  Germany — 
they  are  accompanied  by  two  bands  of  Females,  the 
German  Amazons  under  a  Leader  called  the  Golden- 
Footed,  and  the  French  under  Clueen  Eleanor — Disas- 
ters of  the  Crusade — Misconduct  of  Eleanor — Both 
Monarchs  abandon  the  Enterprise,         .         .         .  166 

CHAP.  XL 

Divorce  of  Louis  and  his  Glueen,  Eleanor — Marriage  of 
Eleanor  and  Henry  Plantagenet,  by  which  her  Posses- 
sions were  added  to  those  of  a  powerful  Rival  of  Louis — 
Intrigues  of  Louis  to  weaken  the  Power  of  Henry — Ac- 
cession of  Henry  to  the  English  Throne — Contract  of 
Marriage  between  the  Son  of  Henry  and  Daughter  of 
Louis — Rupture  between  these  Monarchs  on  Henry's 
asserting  a  Right  to  the  Earldom  of  Toulouse — their 
Reconciliation — Schism  concerning  the  Election  of  the 
Pope,  in  which  the  Kings  of  France  and  England 
espoused  the  side  of  Alexander  III. — Odium  incurred 
by  Henry  on  account  of  the  Murder  of  Thomas  a 
Becket — League,  with  i_<ouis  at  its  Head,  against  Henry 
— the  Confederates  compelled  to  retreat — Peace  con- 
cluded— Death  of  Louis,         ...  .         192 

CHAP.  XIL 

Accession  and  wise  Measures  of  Philip — Death  of  Henry 
of  England,  and  Accession  of  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion — 
Philip  and  Richard  unite  in  a  Crusade  to  the  Holy  Land 
— State  of  the  East  at  this  Period — Siege  of  Acre — Dis- 
sensions among  the  Leaders  of  the  Crusade — Philip's 
return  to  Em-ope — Splendid  Achievements  of  Richard — 
his  Recall  to  Europe — his  Imprisonment  and  Liberation 
— his  War  with  Philip,  and  Death — Accession  of  John — 
Philip's  double  Marriage — Cruelty  nf  John  in  suppress- 
ing an  Insurrection  of  his  Nephew  Arthur  in  Guienne — 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
the  aggrieved  Parties  complain  to  Philip,  who  takes  the 
field,  and  deprives  John  of  the  whole  of  his  Possessions 
in  France — In  consequence  of  this  Success,  Philip  gains 
the  title  of  Augustus,  and  resolves  to  conquer  England — 
Dispute  between  John  and  the  Pope — Philip  decleires 
hinaself  the  Champion  of  the  Pope,  and  assembles  a 
large  Army  to  invade  England — John's  Submission  to 
the  Pope — Pliilip  turns  his  arms  against  Flanders,  but 
is  worsted — Confederacy  against  the  increasing  power 
of  France,  between  King  John,  the  Emperor  Otho,  and 
the  Earls  of  Flanders,  Boulogne,  Toulouse,  and  Au- 
vergne — Defeat  of  the  Allies  at  Bouvines— -Philip's 
treatment  of  his  Prisoners — Truce  v/ith  England — Cru- 
sades against  the  Albigenses — Unpopularity  of  King 
John — The  Barons  of  England  offer  to  transfer  their 
Allegiance  to  Louis,  the  son  of  Philip — Louis'  Invasion 
of  England — Death  of  John,  and  Accession  of  Henry  IIL 
— Defeat  of  Louis  at  Lincoln — He  withdraws  his  claim 
to  England,  and,  retiring  to  I'rance,  engages  in  a  Cru- 
sade against  the  Albigenses — Death  of  Philip,      .      .215 

CHAP.  XIIL 
Accession  of  Louis  the  Lion — War  with  England — Cru- 
sade against  the  Albigenses — Death  of  Louis — Regency 
of  Glueen  Blanche — Conspiracy  of  the  Crown  Vassals 
suppressed — Louis  assumes  the  Cross — lands  at  Da- 
mietta,  and  captures  that  place — Disasters  of  the  French 
in  their  march  to  Grand  Cairo — Louis  and  great  part  of 
his  Army  taken  Prisoners — Negotiations  for  then-  Ran- 
som— Murder  of  the  Sultan  by  his  Body  Guard — Con- 
duct of  the  Assassins  towards  the  French  King — Con- 
finement of  the  Glueen  during  her  Husband's  Captivity — 
Louis  returns  to  France,  en  tlie  Death  of  his  Mother — 
his  Despondency,         .......   268 


TALES  OF  A  GRANDFATHER. 


CHAP.  I. 

The  love  of  power  is  deeply  impressed  on 
mankind,  whether  they  have  a  political  existence 
in  the  relation  of  states  and  empires,  or  remain  in 
their  individual  capacity.  Even  in  those  strict 
republics,  where  individuals  find  it  most  difficult 
to  raise  themselves  to  superior  stations,  whether 
by  address,  eloquence,  or  any  other  influential 
superiority,  the  desire  to  add  to  the  power  which 
may  be  enjoyed  and  wielded  by  the  public  at 
large,  is  more  strongly  felt  by  each  person,  ex- 
actly in  proportion  to  his  own  exclusion  from  in- 
dividual authority ;  and  the  reason  is  plain,  be- 
cause the  poorest  and  most  humble  citizen  beholds 
himself,  in  idea,  enriched  with  a  portion  of  the 
fame  and  power  acquired  by  the  state,  and  consi- 
ders himself  as  a  gainer  in  the  good  fortune  of  the 
commonwealth.  It  thus  follows,  that,  for  a  time 
at  least,  the  love  of  the  republic  supersedes  the 
plans  which  men  entertain  under  other  forms  of 
government  for  their  private  advantage. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  that  a  state  which  can 
thus  engross,  for  the  public  service,  all  the  esti- 
mable and  useful  qualities  of  its  citizens,  presents 


12  EARLY  STATE  OF  GAUL. 

an  imposing  spectacle,  grand  and  unconquerable 
in  the  talents  and  capacities  which  it  unites,  and 
commanding  at  pleasure  all  that  can  be  sacrificed 
in  its  cause,  from  the  knowledge  of  the  most  pro- 
found philosopher,  to  the  courage  and  life  of  its 
hardiest  peasant.  Yet,  pushed  to  excess,  this 
disinterested  patriotism  must,  far  from  a  virtue, 
be  numbered  in  the  rolls  of  vice. 

To  pillage  and  oppress,  to  conquer  and  subdue 
the  freedom  and  independence  of  other  states,  is 
not  laudable,  any  more  than  to  rob  and  slay  for 
the  maintenance  of  our  own  household  ;  though, 
to  provide  for  our  family  by  lawful  means,  is  an 
imperious  duty.  Rome,  the  mistress,  or  rather 
the  tyrant,  of  the  world,  as  it  was  then  known  to 
exist,  grew  to  her  excess  of  power  by  the  injus- 
tice of  her  children,  who  held  it  as  the  principle 
of  their  being,  that  the  empire  should  be  extended 
as  far  as  the  habitable  world  permitted. 

That  extensive  yet  compact  country,  now  called 
France,  and  at  an  earlier  period  known  by  the 
name  of  Gallia,  or  Gaul,  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant which  was  liable  to  the  general  encroach- 
ments made  by  Rome  on  her  neighbours.  But 
the  inhabitants  being  a  very  numerous,  courage- 
ous people,  and  much  disposed  to  martial  achieve- 
ments, were  addicted,  like  most  other  nations,  to 
leave  their  own  country  when  they  found  their 
population  increase,  and  hive  ofTin  military  colo- 
nies, to  establish  new  settlements  elsewhere. 
They  were,  in  this  respect,  neighbours  who  struck 
terror  even  into  the  Romans  themselves,  and  who, 
although  often  at  war  with  that  great  repubhc, 
were  not  finally  or  effectually  subdued  until  the 
last  days  o^  Roman  freedom. 


EXTENT    AND    INHABITANTS    OF    GAUL.       13 

Gaul  was  understood  to  contain  the  whole 
country  bounded  by  the  Pyrenees,  the  Alps,  the 
Rhine,  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and  the  Ocean, 
but  considerable  portions  have  been  since  de- 
tached from  modern  France.  Such  were  the 
Cantons  of  Switzerland,  with  the  German  terri- 
tories on  the  Rhine. 

This  portion  of  Europe,  considerable  not  only 
from  its  extent,  but  from  its  climate  and  fertility, 
was  chiefly,  but  not  entirely,  inhabited  by  the  de- 
scendants of  the  Celtic  race.  These  Celts,  by 
whom  Gaul  was  first  peopled,  appear  to  have 
been  the  great  family  by  which  the  habitable  parts 
of  Europe  were  first  settled,  though  their  de- 
scendants were  afterwards  conquered  and  over- 
come by  the  Gothic  tribes — the  second  great  co- 
lonists of  the  most  civilized  quarter  of  the  globe. 

But  two  great  portions  of  the  Gallic  Celts  had 
admitted  such  modifications  of  language  and  man- 
ners, the  one  from  the  neighbouring  Germans,  the 
other  from  its  connexion  with  the  Spaniards,  that 
the  one  people  were  called  Belgse,  the  other 
Celtiberians,  distinguishing  them  from  the  more 
genuine  and  unmixed  Celts.  That  they  were 
originally  all  descended  from  the  same  race,  is 
proved  by  the  remains  of  their  language,  names, 
and  customs. 

The  manners  of  the  Celts,  and  especially  their 
religious  institutions,  were  peculiar.  They  had 
one  supreme  Deity  whom  they  called  Esus,  and 
they  performed  their  rites  of  adoration  in  the 
depths  of  forests,  or  surrounded  by  huge  circles' 
of  stones,  rough,  unhewn,  and  placed  upright. 
Their  chief  priests  were  the  Druids,  a  race  set 
apart  among  them  for  conducting  the  public  wor- 

VOL.  I.  2 


14  DRUIDICAL    WORSHIP,    THE    BARDS. 

ship,  as  well  as  for  preserving  the  knowledge  of 
their  laws  and  histories.  These  were  usually 
couched  in  poetry,  which  the  Druids  committed 
to  memory,  and  recited  at  their  periodical  meet- 
ings and  festivals. 

These  Druids  seem  to  have  erected  one  of  the 
most  artful  and  complete  systems  of  priesthood 
which  the  world  ever  saw.  The  authority  per- 
mitted to  magistrates,  kings,  or  princes,  according 
to  the  constitution  of  the  community,  was  always 
held  to  be  sanctioned  and  delegated  by  the  priests, 
and  the  government  was  always  directed  by  their 
opinion.  They  had  absolute  influence  over  the 
gentry  of  the  tribe,  to  whom  they  gave  the  epithet 
of  riders,  or  horsemen,  the  value  of  a  warrior 
being  always  raised  by  the  possession  of  a  horse. 
Human  sacrifices  were  frequently  offered  up, 
under  a  mistaken  impression,  that  we  ought  to 
present  to  the  Deity  what  our  race  holds  most 
dear,  which  undoubtedly  is  the  principle  of  human 
life. 

The  Bards  were  a  class  of  men  only  inferior  to 
the  Druids  in  importance.  Music  and  poetry 
were  eagerly  cultivated  by  the  Gauls.  These 
national  poets  sung  hymns  to  their  deity,  and  the 
praises  of  deceased  warriors ;  and  such  was  the 
affection  of  the  people  for  these  arts,  that  when, 
at  a  later  period,  it  was  the  object  to  fix  their  at- 
tention upon  the  Scriptures,  it  was  found  the  best 
method  to  translate  the  Sacred  Writings  into 
poetry,  and  set  them  to  music. 

The  government  in  Gaul  was  various  among 
the  different  independent  states,  which,  according 
as  custom  prevailed  among  them,  were  governed 
by  kings,  or  by  elective  magistrates.     They  were 


EMIGRATION    OF   TrtE    GAULS. 15 

prompt  and  ready  in  battle  ;  a  bold,  fiery,  warlike 
race,  whose  very  women  used  to  sustain  the  fight 
when  the  men  were  defeated,  and  who  often  slew 
themselves  rather  than  surrender  to  an  enemy. 

In  appearance  they  were  a  handsome  people  ; 
bold  in  their  manners,  yet  not  untinctured  with 
civility.  They  combed  their  hair  forward,  so  as  to 
give  a  wildness  and  ferocity  to  their  aspect,  wore 
tight  trowsers  and  a  loose  mantle.  Their  chiefs 
wore  a  chain  of  gold,  twisted  out  of  flexible  rods 
of  that  metal,  such  as  children  make  out  of  bul- 
rushes. Manlius,  an  ancient  Roman,  who  killed 
a  champion  thus  decorated,  assumed  from  thence 
the  additional  name  of  Torquatus,  or  him  with  the 
Chain.  Besides  this  Torques^  or  Twist,  as  it  was 
called,  the  Gauls  wore  bracelets,  and  ornaments 
round  the  ankle,  and  the  wealthy  had  them  made 
of  the  same  precious  metal. 

The  Gauls  carried  hospitality  to  strangers  to 
the  utmost  extent.  They  were  profuse  in  eating, 
and  still  more  in  the  use  of  strong  liquors.  'The 
Romans  accused  them  of  being  fickle,  uncertain, 
and  treacherous  to  their  engagements.  But  they 
were  probably  not  more  so  than  the  Romans 
themselves. 

We  have  mentioned  that  the  nation  of  Gaul,  or 
rather  the  infinity  of  small  states  into  which  it  was 
divided,  was  so  very  populous,  that,  when  their 
numbers  seemed  about  to  exceed  the  means  of 
subsistence  produced  by  their  imperfect  agricul- 
ture, great  colonies  of  them  departed  from  their 
native  country,  with  a  view  to  provide  themselves 
with  new  settlements  at  the  expense  of  some 
richer  or  more  thinly  peopled  region. 

In  this  manner  the  Gauls,  in  olden  times,  were 


16      INVASIONS    O^    ITALY    AND    GREECE    BY 

frequently  troublesome  neighbours  to  the  Romans, 
surmounting  the  Alps,  and  extending  themselves 
to  Lombardy,  where  they  established  strong  colo- 
nies. They  frequently  invaded  the  southern  parts 
of  Italy,  acquired  lands  there,  and  under  their 
general,  Brennus,  burnt  and  pillaged  the  city  of 
Rome  itself,  three  hundred  and  eighty-five  years 
before  the  Christian  era  ;  they  were,  however, 
obliged  to  retreat  from  the  citadel,  or  Capitol,  and 
were  finally  defeated  by  the  Dictator  Camillus. 

The  Gauls  also  rendered  themselves  formidable 
at  a  later  period,  by  an  invasion  of  Greece  under 
a  second  general  of  the  name  of  Brennus,  whc 
seized  upon  the  treasures  which  had  been  stored 
up  by  the  devotion  of  ages,  in  the  celebrated 
Temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphos.  In  these  excur- 
sions, you  must  not  conceive  that  the  Gallic  inva- 
ders acted  as  the  forces  of  one  united  kingdom, 
but  rather  as  an  assembly  of  independent  bands 
belonging  to  the  various  states,  cities,  and  com- 
munities, into  which  the  country  was  subdivided, 
convoked  for  a  time  under  a  single  chief,  to  whom 
the  rest  yielded  the  supreme  authority,  as  to  the 
most  powerful  or  the  most  skilful  in  war. 

The  rapine  of  these  desultory  hosts  was  the 
more  dreaded  and  execrated,  that  from  their  reli- 
gious principles  turning  on  the  worship  of  one  only 
Deity,  whom  they  adored  in  the  depths  of  forests, 
and  not  in  houses  made  with  human  hands,  they 
were  in  the  habit  of  dishonouring  and  destroying 
the  temples  and  altars  of  other  nations. 

Nor  was  their  conduct  in  battle  less  formidable 
than  their  principles  were  obnoxious.  The  Gauls 
were  famous  for  their  bravery  and  love  of  war, 
which  they  carried  so  far,  that  they  accounted  it 


THE    GAULS  ;     THEIR    BRAVERY.  17 

cowardice  to  make  use  of  defensive  armour,  and 
rushed  upon  the  spears  of  their  enemies  with  un- 
defended bosoms.  This  contempt  of  precaution 
was  joined  with  other  faults,  which  exposed  them 
to  great  loss  in  regular  actions  with  the  experi- 
enced Romans  ;  yet,  so  dangerous  weje  they, 
from  their  great  numbers,  and  the  fury  of  their 
assault,  undisciplined  as  it  was,  that  Cicero  de- 
clares, that  had  not  the  passage  of  the  Alps,  by 
which  alone  they  could  reach  Italy,  been  too  dif- 
ficult, and  had  not  the  mountains  possessed  too 
few  means  of  sustenance  for  the  passage  of  a 
Gallic  army  in  its  full  numbers,  that  nation  must 
have  destroyed  the  city  of  Rome  itself,  even  be- 
fore its  greatness  was  established. 

On  this  account,  according  to  the  opinion  of 
Cicero,  the  Gauls,  until  the  conquests  of  Julius 
Caesar,  continued  to  be  the  most  obstinate  and 
formidable  enemies  of  the  Romans.  So  generally 
were  they  considered  as  such,  that,  in  the  celebrated 
conspiracy  of  Catiline,  it  was  partly  the  intention 
of  the  plotters  to  have  drawn  from  Gaul  a  consi- 
derable force  for  the  execution  of  their  purpose, 
which  comprehended  nothing  less  than  the  total 
destruction  of  the  Romaji  form  of  government. 

The  Gauls,  indeed,  did  not  snatch  at  this  bait ; 
certain  ambassadors  of  the  Allobroges,  a  people 
of  Savoy  in  alliance  with  Rome,  having  informed 
the  Consul  Sanga  of  the  proposals  which  had 
been  made  to  them,  materially  assisted  the  disco- 
very of  the  plot.  Nevertheless,  the  risk  of  their 
future  interference  with  other  internal  feuds  of 
the  same  nature,  was  a  secret  reason  for  urging 
the  subjugation  of  this  powerful  people. 

The  Romans  also  possessed  one  small  pro- 
2* 


18  ROMAN     PROVINCE    OF    NAREONNE. 

vince  in  Gaul,  in  which  they  claimed  .  a  spe- 
cial and  peculiar  interest.     It  was  more  than  a 

centur\'  before  Christ's  birth,  that  the  Consul 
Marcius  Rex  took  one  step  towards  the  subjec- 
tion of  Gaul,  by  establishing  a  Roman  colony  be- 
tween the  Pyrenean  chain  of  mountains  and  the 
city  of  Toulouse,  where  he  founded  the  state  called 
Xarbonne.  This  colony  was  connected  with 
Italy  by  a  military  road  between  the  Alps  and 
P_>Tenees,  and  atforded,  as  you  will  presently  see, 
most  of  the  pretexts  which  the  Republic  brought 
forward  for  interfering  with  the  affairs  of  Gaul. 
The  protection  of  the  Allobroges,  and  other 
states  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  province  who 
had  embraced  the  friendship  of  Rome,  formed  a 
perpetual  apology  for  such  intermeddling. 

Thus  the  conquest  of  Gaul,  though  undoubt- 
edly Caesar  was  encouraged  in  the  attempt  by  the 
hope  of  adding  to  the  power  and  renown  of  the 
Republic,  and  raising  himself  in  the  opinion  of 
his  fellow-citizens,  was,  in  a  certain  degree, 
founded  on  state  necessity.  But,  besides  the 
ordinarv  reasons  for  which  Rome  took  up  arms, 
grounds  of  serious  political  envy  and  hatred  im- 
pelled the  conquerors  of  {he  world  t<»  make  a  war 
of  subjection  on  a  people  who  were  always  rest- 
less neighbours,  and  occasionally  dangerous  ene- 
mies. 

In  Ccesar,  the  Romans  enjoyed  the  advantage 
ofacreneral  equally  wise  and  skilful,  and  who, 
considerin£  his  o\^'n  ambitious  views  as  insepara- 
bly connected  with  the  conquest  and  final  subjec- 
tion of  Gaul,  neglected  no  means  of  accomphsh- , 
ing  an  object  so  much  desired  by  his  countrymen, 
and  so  essential  to  his  own  fortunes. 


THE    HELVETIANS    RESOLVE  19 

The  principal  circumstance  which  afforded  ex- 
ercise for  Julius  Caesar's  political  sagacity,  and  a 
pretext  at  the  same  time  for  his  military  exploits, 
was  the  subdivision  of  this  great  country  into  a 
numberless  variety  of  cities,  governments,  and 
states,  trespassing  almost  always  on  each  other, 
and  engaged  in  endless  and  complicated  feuds, 
which  perpetually  called  for,  or  at  least  served  to 
excuse,  the  interference  of  the  Roman  General, 
who,  while  he  pretended  to  advocate  the  rights, 
and  protect  the  cause,  of  such  Gallic  nations  as 
were  the  allies  of  Rome,  failed  not  to  seize  the 
opportunity  of  destroying  one  state  by  the  arms 
of  another,  of  which  his  Commentaries,  as  you 
are  already  aware,  afford  a  most  curious,  as  well 
as  elegant  narrative. 

A  singular  resolution  on  the  part  of  the  Helve- 
tians, a  Gallic  tribe  of  great  numbers  and  brav- 
ery, afforded  the  Romans  the  first  opportunity 
and  apology  for  armed  interference  in  the  affairs 
of  Gaul.  This  nation  were  the  more  hostile  to 
the  Romans,  that  they  had,  at  no  distant  period, 
defeated  a  considerable  army  of  the  Republic, 
forced  them  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and  only 
spared  their  lives  on  condition  of  their  passing 
beneath  the  yoke,  accounted  at  the  time  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  most  abject  surrender.  One 
of  Caesar's  own  relatives  had  shared  in  this  de- 
gradation. 

The  habit  of  emigration  was  then  so  general, 
that  the  spirit  of  local  attachment,  which  is  at  this 
day  one  of  the  strongest  principles  of  the  modem 
Swiss,  had  no  weight  with  the  ancient  Helvetians. 
"With  the  same  impatience  which  had  formerly 
induced  their  Celtic  forefathers  to  change  their 


20  TO    INVADE    GAUL. 

position  from  one  place  to  another,  the  Helve- 
tians determined  to  quit  the  barren  mountains 
where  they  were  born,  and  march  forth  in  a  body 
to  establish,  by  fair  means  or  by  force,  new  settle- 
ments in  other  regions.  After  some  feuds  among 
themselves,  which  terminated  in  the  death  of  a 
great  chief,  named  Orgetorix,  with  whom  the  de- 
sign of  emigration  originated,  the  Helvetii  set 
forth  as  a  nation  upon  their  adventurous  expedition. 
Turning  their  backs,  as  they  designed,  forever, 
on  their  native  valleys  and  mountains,  they  burnt 
their  towns,  twelve  in  number,  with  forty  villages, 
and,  with  their  wives  and  children,  cattle  and 
slaves,  set  out  upon  their  extraordinary  adventure. 

In  our  day,  hardly  any  thing  could  be  account- 
ed so  strange  as  the  resolution  of  a  nation  to 
leave  its  own  familiar  abode,  and  set  forth  on  a 
vague  expedition  to  settle  in  foreign  parts.  But, 
at  the  period  I  mention,  fifty-eight  years  before 
the  birth  of  our  Saviour,  this  wandering  people 
had  little  of  what  we  now  call  love  of  their  native 
land,  and  willingly  undertook  the  labour  and  risk 
of  such  a  journey,  in  the  hardy  confidence  that 
they  would  easily  find  a  country  more  pleasant 
and  fertile  than  their  own  barren  regions,  and  that 
they  could  scarcely  be  obliged  to  encounter,  in 
defence  of  it,  a  nation  of  more  bravery  and  war- 
like temper  than  they  were  conscious  of  bringing 
along  with  them. 

An  incursion  so  bold  as  that  which  the  Helve- 
tians proposed,  the  Romans  had  a  fair  pretencQ 
for  resisting  ;  the  more,  as  the  Helvetians  pro- 
posed to  march  into  Gaul  itself  through  the  terri- 
tory of  the  AUobroges,  whom  we  have  already 
mentioned  as  allies  of  the  Romans,  and  near 


INTERCEPTED    BY    CiESAR.  21 

neighbours  to  the  Roman  province,  and  of  course 
under  the  protection  of  the  repubhc. 

At  this  extraordinary  intelHgence,  Caesar,  who 
had  been  lately  appointed  Preetor,  set  off  with  the 
utmost  speed  from  Rome,  to  look  after  the  press- 
ing affairs  of  the  Gallic  province  which  had  been 
committed  to  his  charge.  Here  he  defended  the 
frontiers  of  the  Allobroges  by  raising  a  long  wall, 
flanked  with  towers,  hastily  erected  indeed,  but 
with  such  judgment  that  the  Helvetians  did  not 
venture  to  attack  it. 

The  expatriated  nation,  being  obliged  to  change 
their  line  of  march,  had  only  one  road  remaining, 
which  led  into  Gaul  through  the  territory  of  the 
Sequani,  now  called  Burgundy.  This  road,  run- 
ning among  cliffs  and  torrents,  was  judged  totally 
inaccessible  without  the  consent  of  the  Sequani 
themselves  ;  but,  by  the  intercession  of  Dum- 
norix,  a  chief  of  the  iEduans,  a  people  whose  ter- 
ritory lay  near  Autun,  the  Helvetians  obtained 
permission  to  pass  through  the  defiles  of  the  Bur- 
gundians  unopposed,  so  that  they  might  after- 
wards march  in  a  direction  which  should  enable 
them  to  approach  the  ancient  Tolosatium,  now 
Toulouse.  By  this  movement  the  Roman  pro- 
vince was  highly  endangered. 

The  iEduans,  friends,  if  not  allies  of  the  Ro- 
mans, were  mortal  enemies  of  the  Sequani,  and  be- 
sought assistance  from  Ceesar  against  the  stream 
of  Helvetians  who  were  thus  poured  into  their  ter- 
ritory. Csesar  hastened  the  motions  of  his  army, 
for  the  purpose  of  intercepting  the  proposed  march 
of  the  Helvetians,  and  preventing  the  threatened 
devastation  of  Gaul.  So  rapid  were  his  movements, 
that  finding  the  rear  of  their  army,  consisting  of 


22  C^SAR   DEFEATS    THE    HELVETIANS. 

one-fourth  of  the  whole,  still  encamped  on  the  east- 
ern banks  of  the  Arar,  or  Saone,  though  the  other 
three-fourths  had  passed  the  river,  he  fell  upon  the 
rearmost  division,  thus  separated  from  their  main 
body,  surprised  and  cut  them  to  pieces,  astonish- 
ing the  invaders,  not  less  with  this  unexpected 
blow,  than  with  the  activity  with  which  he  con- 
structed, in  a  single  day,  a  bridge  to  pass  his  army 
across  the  Arar,  although  the  task  had  occupied 
the  barbarians  twenty  days.  After  he  had  crossed 
the  river,  Csesar  detected  the  treachery  of  Dumno- 
rix,  but  forgave  it,  in  consideration  of  the  fidelity  to 
the  Romans  exhibited  by  his  brother  Divitiacus. 

He  then  engaged  in  a  decisive  battle  with 
the  main  body  of  the  Helvetians,  whom,  after 
a  severe  contest,  he  defeated  with  much  slaugh- 
ter. The  Helvetians  submitted  to  the  conque- 
ror, and,  by  Caesar's  order,  returned  to  their  an- 
cient possessions,  excepting  only  one  tribe,  called 
the  Boii,  who,  at  the  intercession  of  the  Mdvd, 
were  permitted  by  that  tribe  to  settle  in  the  terri- 
tory of  Autun,  their  junction  being  considered  as 
a  decided  advantage. 

Julius  Caesar,  having  thus  established  the  terror 
of  his  name,  by  the  conquest,  and  almost  annihi- 
lation, of  the  warlike  Helvetians,  was  soon  called 
to  undertake  a  war,  which,  according  to  the  belief 
of  the  Gauls,  brought  him  in  contact  with  adver- 
saries still  more  formidable.  Of  this  he  was  in- 
formed in  a  private  council  held  by  the  JEdui. 
They  acquainted  him,  that,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  the  Gauls,  who  v/ere  constantly  divided 
among  themselves,  a  long  feud  had  existed  be- 
tween them  (the  ^duans)  on  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other  the  Sequani,  already  frequently  mention- 


CHARACTER    OF    THE    GOTHIC    TRIBES.        23 

ed  as  well  as  another  powerful  tribe,  called  the 
Arverni,  a  people  situated  on  the  Loire,  and  who 
were  united  with  the  Sequani  against  the  ^dui. 
Finding  that  their  combined  strength  was  unable 
to  conquer  the  -3Edui,  these  tribes  agreed  to  call 
to  their  assistance  the  warlike  German  nations 
which  inhabited  the  opposite  side  of  the  Rhine, 
where  that  river  bounded  the  country  of  the  Gauls. 

I  must  here  briefly  remind  you,  that  though  a 
part  of  Germany  had  been  originally  settled  by 
the  Celtic  tribes,  yet  the  successors  of  these  first 
colonists  had  been  at  a  subsequent  period  subdu- 
ed, or  banished,  by  a  people  so  different  in  man- 
ners, language,  religion,  and  even  in  form  and 
countenance,  as  to  present  in  their  general  ap- 
pearance all  the  qualities  of  a  different  race. 

This  great  and  most  important  division  of  man- 
kind, finally  constituted  the  grand  source  from 
which  the  modern  nations  of  Europe  have  derived 
their  principal  materials  of  population,  and  the  pe- 
culiarities of  their  several  governments.  They 
were  generally  termed  Goths,  having  among  them- 
selves a  great  variety  of  distinctive  names.  They 
spoke  another  language,  differing  from,  and  op- 
posed to  that  of  the  Celts,  insomuch  that  some  wri- 
ters have  held  them  altogether  different.  They 
are  found,  however,  by  more  accurate  inquirers, 
so  far  connected  as  to  warrant  their  being  refer- 
red to  a  common  source,  at  a  period  probably  pre- 
vious to  the  remarkable  event  described  in  Scrip- 
ture as  the  Confusion  of  tongues.  The  Goths  did 
not  follow  the  religion  of  the  Celtic  tribes,  nor  were 
they  acquainted  with  the  order  of  the  Druids,  nei- 
ther did  they  acknowledge  the  existence  or  wor- 
ship of  Esus,  the  one  and  only  deity  of  the  Gauls. 


24         CHARACTER    OF    THE    GOTHIC    TRIBES. 

They  worshipped  the  sun  and  the  moon,  to  which 
they  added  several  imaginary  deities.  They  were 
much  attached  to  the  arts  of  divination,  and  as 
these  were  chiefly  used  by  the  matrons  of  the 
tribe,  the  females  received,  from  this  cause,  as 
well  as  others  presently  to  be  mentioned,  a  degree 
of  honour  seldom  paid  to  them  by  the  males  of 
barbarous  tribes,  who  generally  devolve  on  their 
women  all  labour  save  those  of  hunting  and  war. 

This  race  of  Goths  possessed  some  qualities, 
which,  in  the  eyes  of  barbarians,  are  of  high  value. 
They  were  large-limbed,  tall,  and  of  great  person- 
al strength,  having  generally  red  hair  and  blue 
eyes.  Their  chiefs  only  enjoyed  command  during 
the  time  of  war,  and  a  species  of  princes,  called 
kings  by  the  Romans,  were  elected  as  their  judges 
during  peace ;  each  of  these  magistrates  had  a  coun- 
cil of  one  hundred  persons  supported  by  the  pubhc. 

Their  women,  who  held  a  high  rank  amongst 
them,  were  remarkable  for  their  chaste  and  hon- 
ourable character ;  and  as  no  one  was  allowed  to 
marry  until  he  was  one-and-twenty,  at  least,  their 
young  men  looked  forward  with  anxiety  and  hope 
to  a  period  when  they  should  undertake  the  duties 
and  dignities  of  men,  and  in  the  meanwhile  prac- 
tised those  habits  of  patient  restraint  and  subdued 
passions,  which  made  them  fit  for  the  duties  of 
manhood,  when  the  period  should  arrive  that  they 
were  permitted  to  assume  the  situation  of  a  hus- 
band and  a  father. 

The  women,  on  their  part,  finding  themselves  the 
universal  objects  of  respect  and  attention,  were 
anxious  to  assume  a  higher  and  more  lofty  charac- 
ter in  society,  than  is  usually  assigned  to  females 
in  the  savage  state.  They  partook  in  the  toils  and 


GOTHIC    TRIBES    OF    GERMANY.  25 

dangers  of  war,  accompanied  their  husbands  in 
their  expeditions,  and  when  the  battle  was  irre- 
trievably lost,  they  often,  by  slaying  themselves 
and  their  children,  gave  dreadful  examples  that 
they  preferred  death  to  slavery. 

The  character  of  these  Gothic  tribes  had  some- 
thing superior  even  to  that  of  the  Gauls  ;  braver 
they  could  hardly  be,  but  in  war  they  were  more 
steady,  more  persevering,  could  better  endure  the 
fatigues  of  a  long  and  doubtful  fight ;  and  if  infe- 
rior to  the  Gauls  and  other  Celtic  nations  in  the 
fury  of  a  headlong  onset,  they  possessed  powers 
of  keeping  their  ground,  and  rallying,  which  ren- 
dered the  event  of  the  day  doubtful,  even  after  a 
long  struggle.  We  can  dimly  perceive,  by  the 
history  of  ancient  times,  that  the  approach  of  these 
Goths  from  the  east  gradually  overpowered  and 
subdued  the  Celtic  colonies  who  occupied  Ger- 
many ;  some  penetrating  northwards  into  Scan- 
dinavia, while  others  rolled  their  emigration  rather 
to  the  south  and  east,  till  their  course  was  check- 
ed by  the  mountainous  regions  of  Switzerland  and 
the  Tyrol,  and  by  the  broad  course  of  the  Rhine. 

It  followed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  the  fair 
regions  of  Gaul  beyond  this  great  river  should 
become  objects  of  covetousness  to  the  Germans, 
whose  crops  were  raised  with  difficulty,  and  who 
were  as  much  strangers  to  wine  as  they  were 
enamoured  with  the  occasional  use  of  it.  It  is 
not  therefore  wonderful,  that  the  Germans,  under 
the  command  of  a  powerful  and  haughty  chief, 
named  Ariovistus,  should  have  willingly  accepted 
the  invitation  of  the  Arverni  and  Sequani,  to  cross 
the  Rhine,  as  I  have  told-  you,  to  support  them 
against  the   jSEdui ;  nor   was   it   surprising  that 

VOL.    I.  3 


26  C^SAR    DEFEATS    ARiOVISTUS. 

Caesar,  foreseeing  the  danger  of  permitting  these 
martial  people  to  establish  settlements  beyond 
the  great  river  which  had  hitherto  been  their  bar- 
rier, willingly  inquired  into  the  nature  of  their 
proceeding,  with  the  purpose  of  putting  a  stop  to 
it.  He  soon  learned  that  Ariovistus  and  the 
Germans  had  already  taken  from  the  Sequani  one- 
third  of  their  temtory,  and  occupied  the  lands 
with  his  people,  while  he  demanded  a  third  more 
for  the  accommodation  of  reintorcements,  which 
were  about  to  join  him  from  Germany. 

When  Csesai'  applied  to  Ariovistus  to  know 
why  he  assaulted  and  injured  the  allies  of  the 
Roman  people,  the  German  prince  returned  him 
the  contemptuous  answer,  that  he  was  yet  to  learn 
what  pretence  Csesar  or  the  Romans  could  have 
for  intertering  ^vith  his  operations  in  Gaul.  The 
Romans  marched  against  this  new  enemy  ;  but 
the  Gauls  raised  such  exaggerated  reports  con- 
cerning the  strength  and  ferocity  of  the  Germans, 
that  they  spread  a  sort  of  panic  even  among  the 
legionary  troops  themselves.  Caesar,  by  his  ad- 
dress and  eloquence,  put  a  stop  to  this  mutiny  of 
the  troops.  He  declared  that  he  himself  would 
proceed  on  the  expedition,  though  only  the  Tenth 
Legion  should  attend  him.  This  select  body  of 
men  were  flattered  by  the  praise  and  confidence 
of  their  general,  while  the  rest  called  out  to  be  led 
against  the  Germans. 

Ctesar  then  marched  against  Ariovistus,  and 
after  some  manoeuvres,  forced  the  German  prince 
to  come  to  an  action,  in  which  he  routed  his  whole 
army  with  much  slaughter,  eighty  thousand  Ger- 
mans falling,  and  Ariovistus  himself  escapuig 
with  great  diinc-ilty  across  the  Rhine. 


INSURRECTIONS    OF    THE    GAULS.  2  7 

By  this  decisive  victory  over  the  Germans,  to 
whom  the  Gauls  yielded  the  superiority  in  valour, 
the  reputation  of  the  Roman  general  was  so 
highly  raised,  that  it  enabled  him  to  assume  the 
situation  most  convenient  for  reducing  the  whole 
country  to  obedience,  which  was  the  ultimate  pur- 
pose to  which  he  directed  his  schemes  and  inter- 
est. He  became,  or  constituted  himself,  judge  in 
the  numerous  quarrels  which  took  place  amid  so 
many  independent  states.  His  decisions  en- 
couraged v-ar-3  amongst  them,  which  he  so  ma- 
ncLged  that  tlic  victory  always  fell  to  the  side  on 
which  the  Roman  eagles  were  ranked.  The 
Belgae,  a  people  of  Gaul,  who  occupied  modern 
Flanders,  were  the  first  to  see  in  this  supremacy 
of  the  Roman  general  the  future  seeds  of  absolute 
subjugation.  This  people,  residing  nearest  to 
the  Germans,  and  probably  being  rather  of  Ger- 
man than  Gallic  descent,  were  remarkable  above 
the  proper  Gauls  for  their  courage  and  skill  in 
war.  Yet  their  alliance  against  the  Romans  wels 
only  the  means  of  wealicning  their  country  by  re- 
peated invasions,  and  very  bloody  defeats,  which 
increased  the  fame  of  Caesars  arms,  and  rendered 
the  other  nations  careful  how  they  provoked  a 
contest  ^^'ith  a  people  v/hose  attacks  the  most 
powerful  nations  of  Gaul  had  proved  unequal  to 
sustain. 

But  although  it  was  easy  for  Csesar  to  main- 
tain the  office  of  a  Governor  of  Gaul  for  a 
short  time,  yet  the  temper  of  that  people,  equally 
fierce  and  fickle,  was  scarcely  subdued,  or  the 
country,  as  a  R.oman  would  have  said,  half  paci- 
fied, before  they  were  again  forming  plans  and 
alliances  togjether  for  the  ourposs  of  throwing  off 


28  END    OP    C^SAR  S    WARS    IN    GAUL. 

the  yoke  of  Rome.  Ten  years  of  the  active  life 
of  Caesar  were  spent  in  constant  labour  to  reduce 
Gaul  to  the  condition  of  a  Roman  province,  but 
for  a  long  time  with  very  little  success  ;  for  no 
sooner  did  there  appear  a  show  of  tranquillity, 
than  it  became  the  signal  of  wider  combinations 
against  the  foreigners  than  had  taken  place  before. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Caesar  laid  aside  the  clemency 
which  he  practised,  both  from  policy,  and  as  most 
agreeable  to  his  own  temper.  It  was  in  vain,  that 
in  one  action  the  river  Aisne  was  so  filled  up  and 
gorged  with  the  dead  bodies  of  the  Gauls,  that 
the  corpses  served  as  a  bridge  to  their  comrades 
who  escaped  from  the  slaughter.  The  victory 
only  led  to  a  more  terribly  obstinate  struggle  with 
the  Nervii  and  other  Belgic  clans.  Fifty  thou- 
sand of  a  nation  called  Aduatici  were  sold  at 
once  for  slaves.  All  these,  and  other  severities, 
did  not  prevent  a  more  powerful  and  almost  uni- 
versal insurrection  against  the  Romans,  in  which 
the  ^dui  themselves,  the  constant  friends  of 
Rome,  wearied  out  by  exactions  of  various  kinds, 
did  not  refuse  to  join.  The  chief  of  the  league, 
whose  name  was  Yercingetorix,  after  many  brave 
exploits,  was  at  length  made  prisoner,  and  Csesar 
remained  finally  triumphant. 

The  wars  of  Gaul,  of  which  this  is  a  very  hasty 
and  imperfect  review,  terminated  by  the  storming 
of  a  very  strong  fortress,  called  Uxellodunum, 
where  Csesar  cruelly  commanded  the  right  hands 
of  all  the  garrison  who  vvere  fit  to  bear  arms  to  be 
struck  off. 

"The  nature  of  the  labours  undergone  by  Csesar 
will  best  appear  from  Plutarch's  catalogue  of  his 
victories.     "  In  less  than  ten  years,  during  the 


SUBJECT    OF    NEXT    CHAPTER.  29 

Gallic  war,"  says  that  biographer,  *'  Caesar  took 
more  than  eighty  cities  by  storm,  subdued  three 
hundred  states  or  communities,  and  fought  upon 
different  occasions  with  no  less  than  thirteen  mil- 
lions of  men,  one  million  of  whom  had  fallen  into 
captivity,  and  another  had  been  taken  captive  and 
driven  into  slavery."  The  marvel  in  this  report 
will  be  greatly  diminished,  if  the  reader  recollects 
that  Csesar  seldom  encountered  one  nation  of 
Gauls  without  the  aid  of  auxiliaries,  money,  and 
provisions  from  the  others  with  whom  he  was  in 
alliance  at  the  time  ;  and  thus,  though  it  was  the 
talents  of  the  Roman  general  which  conducted 
the  campaign,  yet,  considering  the  actual  charac- 
ter of  the  soldiers  engaged,  Gaul  was  principally 
overcome  by  the  disunion  of  her  own  native 
forces. 

In  the  49th  year  before  the  Christian  era,  Caesar 
returned  to  Rome  to  exercise,  against  the  liberties 
of  his  own  countrymen,  those  troops,  and  that 
discipline,  which  had  been  so  admirably  formed 
during  ten  years'  wars  against  the  Gauls.  In  this 
manner.  Providence  makes  our  own  crimes  the 
means  of  bringing  on  our  punishment.  The  un- 
just ambition  of  the  Romans  was  the  proximate 
cause  of  their  own  loss  of  freedom.  The  effects 
produced  upon  Gaul  by  the  conquest  of  the  Ro- 
mans, will  form  the  subject  of  the  next  volume, 
which  will  bring  us  down  to  the  time  when  the 
reviving  free  spirit  of  Europe  began  to  burst  as- 
under, and  cast  from  her,  the  fetters  of  Rome ; 
or  rather,  when  Rome  herself,  who  had  deprived 
so  many  nations  of  their  freedom,  and  who  had 
so  absolutely  lost  her  own,  found  she  had  at  the 
same  time  lost  her  hardihood,  her  discipline,  and 
3* 


30  POLICY    OF    ROME. 

her  powers  of  conflict,  and  lay  exposed  at  the 
mercy  of  her  own  armies,  Hke  the  fabled  hunter 
to  the  attack  of  his  own  hounds. 


CHAP.  II. 


When  Rome  seized  upon  the  dominions  of  an 
independent  state,  she  usually  prevailed  on  the 
suffering  party  to  rest  satisfied  with  some  mess  of 
pottage,  like  Esau  in  the  Scriptures,  in  place  of 
what  may  be  justly  termed  the  most  precious 
birthright  of  humanity,  excepting  that  spiritual 
benediction  which  the  eldest-born  of  Jacob  so 
rashly  exchanged  for  a  dish  of  food. 

Rome  professed  to  give  to  the  conquered  states 
her  protection,  her  acknowledgment  of  the  au- 
thority of  their  magistrates,  with  perhaps  a  golden 
diadem,  a  curule  chair  of  ivory,  or  some  other 
emblem  of  more  show  than  use  ;  the  true  sense  of 
which  toys  implied,  that  the  laws,  ordinances,  and 
authorities  of  the  once  free  country  could  not  now 
be  said  to  exist,  unless  in  so  far  as  they  were  ac- 
knowledged by  Rome.  The  various  cities,  states, 
or  provinces  throughout  Gaul,  were  ail  subjected 
to  Rome  ;  but  the  servile  connexion  they  bore  to 
her  varied  according  to  the  circumstances  of  sur- 
render. 

Some  cities  or  commonwealths  were  permit- 
ted to  retain  the  name  of  freedom  ;  others  were 
termed  confederates  of  the  Roman  people  ;  while 
others  were  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  province, 


HUMAN    SACRIFICE    FORBIDDEN.  31 

to  which  a  Roman  governor  was  appointed,  with 
full  power  over  the  property  and  persons  of  the 
unhappy  natiyes.  But  in  all  those  cases,  whether 
the  subjugated  Gauls  were  mocked  with  the  name 
of  freemen  or  confederates,  or  called  in  plain 
terms  subjects,  the  Roman  legions  alike  occupied 
their  strongholds.  A  capitation  tax  was  levied 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Republic,  and  the  children 
of  the  soil,  forcibly  arrayed  as  soldiers,  were  made 
to  serve  in  different  countries,  so  that  having  lost 
their  own  freedom,  they  might  be  used  as  tools  to 
deprive  other  nations  of  theirs. 

But  the  vain  and  imaginary  distinctions  com- 
prehended in  these  various  orders  of  subjugation, 
were  soon  entirely  melted  down,  and  merged  into 
sixteen  grand  divisions,  called  provinces,  which, 
it  is  believed,  was  an  arrangement  made  under  the 
reign  of  Augustus  ;  for  so  short  a  time  were  the 
Romans  disposed  to  abide  by  the  veil  of  decency 
with  which  they  themselves  had  in  the  commence- 
ment thought  it  necessary  to  disguise  their  con- 
quests. 

What,  then,  you  may  be  tempted  to  ask,  did  the 
conquered  Gauls  obtain  in  exchange  for  the  right 
of  managing  their  own  affairs,  which  the  Romans 
had  wrested  from  them  ]  In  reply,  it  cannot  be 
denied  that  the  coin  in  which  the  Republic  of 
Rome  paid  for  her  aggressions  was  not  all  false 
money.  It  was  her  boast  to  extend  some  degree 
of  civilization  among  the  prostrated  vassals  of 
her  empire,  and  to  impress  on  them  a  milder  spe- 
cies of  spiritual  rites  than  that  which  had  anima- 
ted them  in  their  days  of  savage  freedom. 

With  this  view,  the  abominable  mode  of  wor- 
ship by  human  sacrifice  was  forbidden  throughout 


32  TEMPLES    FIRST    BUILT. 

the  Gallic  states,  so  soon  as  they  had  bent  the 
knee  to  Rome. 

In  aboHshing  this  wretched  and  barbarous  cus- 
tom, whatever  might  be  the  intention  of  the  Ro- 
mans, there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  morals  of 
the  people  were  proportionally  amended.  Nor, 
when  it  is  considered  what  a  species  of  priest- 
craft was  exercised  by  the  Druids,  and  how  much 
they  strove  to  keep  their  votaries  in  ignorance  in 
order  to  increase  their  own  power,  can  we  blame 
the  means  by  which  the  Romans  endeavoured  to 
diminish  that  power,  although  the  actual  cause  of 
their  doing  so  was  the  reiterated  efforts  of  this 
peculiar  priesthood  to  inflame  their  countrymen 
against  the  yoke  of  the  conquerors. 

But  if  the  injunctions  of  Rome  were  highly 
laudable  in  prohibiting  the  practice  of  human  sac- 
rifices, and  were  in  a  great  measure  salutary,  as 
they  tried  to  loosen  the  fetters  which  an  ambitious 
priesthood  had  fixed  on  the  people,  other  innova- 
tions which  they  introduced  upon  the  Gallic  creed 
were  of  a  different  nature,  and  tended  to  deprive 
them  of  their  primitive  worship,  which,  although 
erroneous,  was  founded  upon  the  grand  system  of 
acknowledging  one  sole  divinity.  The  Druids  re- 
sisted these  innovations  at  first  with  tolerable  suc- 
cess, for  it  is  said  that  no  temples  were  built  in 
Gaul  until  the  time  of  Tiberius,  when  a  general  tax, 
or  census,  over  the  whole  country,  was  proposed  at 
Rome,  and  only  abandoned  on  the  chiefs  of  Gaul 
consenting  to  erect  a  temple  to  the  memory  of 
Caesar,  and  for  the  adoration  of  Augustus.  Thus, 
as  associates  in  the  throne  of  the  single  deity, 
Esus,  in  whom,  no  doubt,  they  recognised,  though 
imperfectly,  the  unity  and  power  of  the  Creator 


HUMAN    SACRIFICE.  33 

I 

uf  all  things,  were  placed  that  very  Julius  Csesar, 
who  had  been  the  invader  and  tyrant  of  their  own 
country,  and  that  Augustus  himself,  the  cruelties 
of  whose  early  life  were  combined  with  the  brutal 
pollutions  of  his  later  years. 

Polytheism,  or  a  variety  of  deities,  being  thus 
introduced  into  Gaul,  that  belief  took  root  and 
throve  among  that  people  to  a  most  wonderful  de- 
gree. The  rich  exhausted  themselves  in  building 
temples,  some  to  the  gods  recognised  by  the 
Romans,  but  fancifully  distinguished  by  other 
epithets  and  attributes  ;  and  others  to  imaginary 
deities,  whom  they  had  sanctified  according  to 
their  own  wild  fancy.  Another  melancholy  part 
attending  this  perversion  to  the  grossest  errors 
of  paganism,  was,  that  whilst  the  Gauls  imbibed 
all  the  superstitions  of  idolatry  and  polytheism, 
and  renounced  the  approach  which  they  had  made 
to  the  grand  truth,  that  the  world  was  created  and 
governed  by  one  great  being,  they  retained  at  the 
same  time  their  custom  of  human  sacrifice. 

These  infernal,  rites,  the  worst  part  of  the  ori- 
ginal worship  of  the  Druidical  system,  the  Gauls 
continued  to  practise  in  secret,  in  defiance  of  the 
edicts  of  the  Emperors  for  abolishing  it,  thus  per- 
versely retaining  what  was  inhuman  and  cruel  in 
their  original  system,  and  adopting,  from  that  of 
their  victors,  the  whole  childish  puerilities  of  a 
superstition  which  the  Romans  had  been  borrow- 
ing for  so  many  centuries  from  every  country, 
whenever  any  thing  could  be  found  to  interweave 
into  their  own  creed.  But  it  must  not  be  supposed  - 
that  the  human  victims  of  the  Druidical  system 
were,  after  the  conquest  of  Gaul,  executed  in  the 
temples  which  they  had  erected  after  the  fashion 


34  SACRIFICE    OP    HUMAN    VICTIMS. 

of  the  Romans.  It  would  appear  that  animals 
alone  were  sacrificed  within  these  new  places  of 
worship  ;  nor  is  it  natural  to  believe  that  the  Gauls 
should  transgress  the  edict  of  the  conquerors, 
under  the  eye  of  their  garrisons,  or  governors. 

The  people,  who,  looking  back  to  the  days  of 
their  freedom,  desired  to  worship  as  they  had 
formerly  worshipped,  met  by  appointment  in  some 
dark  recess  of  unfrequented  woods,  under  the 
direction  of  the  Druids,  who  resumed,  at  such  se- 
cret conclaves,  the  power  which  they  were  no 
longer  permitted  to  exercise  in  public.  Bearing 
on  their  head  the  coronet  of  oak  leaves,  which 
they  esteemed  sacred — clad  in  white  robes,  as 
was  their  custom,  the  ancient  priests  then  met  the 
people  in  the  deep  forest,  to  adore  in  secrecy  and 
silence,  according  to  the  bloody  rites  of  their  fore- 
fethers.  The  victim,  who  fell  under  the  axe  ot 
the  sacrificing  pontiff,  or  who,  sometimes  bound 
to  a  tree,  was  shot  to  death  with  arrows,  was 
usually  a  criminal  who  had  deserved  death,  or 
some  individual  of  small  account,  who  had  been 
kidnapped  and  reserved  for  this  inhuman  purpose. 

At  other  times,  it  was  a  voluntary  victim,  who 
offered  himself  as  an  expiatory  offering  for  the  sins 
of  the  people,  like  the  scapegoat  of  the  Israelites. 
When  an  individual  could  be  wrought  up  to  such, 
a  point  of  insane  patriotism,  the  Druids  announ- 
ced to  him,  as  his  reward,  eternal  happiness  in 
the  society  of  the  Gods,  to  propitiate  whom  he 
consented  to  suffer  death  ;  and  the  people,  if  cir- 
cumstances permitted,  took  care  that  he  whose 
sacrifice  was  to  be  the  price  of  the  public  pros- 
perity, should,  for  some  time  before  his  death, 
taste  of  as  many  of  the  pleasures  of  this  life  as 


PLANS    OF    INSURRECTION.  35 

they  had  the  means  of  procuiing  him.  His  death 
then  took  place  by  the  hand  of  the  consecrated 
Druids.  They  observed  every  circumstance  of 
his  mortal  agony  ;  the  manner  in  which  he  fell ; 
the  course  of  his  blood  down  the  rugged  front  of 
the  sacred  stone  :  and  from  these  circumstances 
affected  to  divine  how  far  the  deity  was  propitious 
to  their  designs.  It  may  be  well  believed  that,  at 
these  secret  meetings,  the  occasional  return  of 
the  Gauls  to  the  barbarous  rites  of  their  Celtic 
ancestors,  the  bards  were  also  called  in  to  assist, 
by  music  and  melody,  the  impression  which  was 
made  on  the  assistants  by  the  eloquence  and 
mystic  predictions  of  the  priests. 

The  themes  usually  chosen  were  the  ancient 
glory  of  Gaul  and  her  inhabitants,  who,  having 
been  long  the  terror  of  distant  countries,  were 
now  found  unable  to  protect  their  own  against  the 
Romans.  The  feelings  of  the  hearers,  a  nation 
readily  excited,  passionately  fond  of  fame,  their 
prejudices  easily  acted  upon  by  the  gloomy  fana- 
ticism of  their  priests,  and  their  quick  fierce 
tempers,  resentful  of  the  injuries  received  from 
the  Romans,  became  much  agitated  by  such 
solemnities,  and  it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
general  schemes  of  revolt  were  laid  or  extended 
at  such  meetings. 

Besides  these  internal  plans  of  insurrection 
against  the  foreign  yoke,  the  vicinity  of  the  free 
Germans,  and  their  incursions  and  conquests  upon 
the  Gallic  territory,  were  another  vexation  which 
instigated  the  mhabitants  to  revolt.  The  Gauls 
had  a  right  to  complain,  that  while  the  Romans 
assumed  the  title  of  their  masters,  and  drained  the 
provinces  of  the  youth  with  whom  they  could  have 


36  INSURRECTION    OF    VINDEX. 

maintained  their  own  defence,  they  left  them  ex- 
posed to  the  inroads  of  a  barbarous  and  formi- 
dable enemy. 

These  dissensions  produced  very  general  con- 
\ailsions  throughout  Gaul,  in  the  year  74 1  after  the 
foundation  of  Rome.  The  various  states  and 
principalities  of  the  whole  sixteen  subdivisions  or 
provinces,  communicated  and  combined  together. 
Drusus,  who  was  sent  by  the  emperor  to  still 
these  commotions,  had  art  and  authority  sufficient 
to  convoke  all  the  Gallic  chiefs  and  principal  ma- 
gistrates at  Lyons,  under  pretence  of  dedicating 
the  temple  to  Augustus,  which  we  have  already 
noticed.  Here  by  promises  and  actual  benefits, 
he  managed  to  disconcert  the  plot  of  the  disaffect- 
ed. And  as  he  proceeded  across  the  Rhine,  and 
repulsed  the  Germans,  the  time  when  the  Gauls 
might  have  at  least  shaken  off  the  Roman  yoke 
passed  away  in  inactivity. 

In  the  year  of  the  Christian  era  78,  during  the 
reign  of  the  tyi^ant  Nero,  an  opportunity  occurred, 
when  the  Gauls,  by  the  rise  of  an  enterprising 
leader,  were  very  near  accomplishing  their  often 
meditated  project  of  successful  insurrection.  The 
leader,  according  to  Dion  Cassius,  named  Caius 
Julius  Vindex,  was  the  son  of  a  Romanized  Gaul, 
whose  father  had  become  a  Roman  senator.  He 
was  descended  from  the  line  of  one  of  the  an- 
cient kings  of  Aquitaine,  endowed  with  great 
strength  of  body,  and  wisdom  ;  above  all,  an  ac- 
complished soldier. 

Availing  himself  of  the  cruel  exactions  with 
which  the  tyrant  then  oppressed  Gaul,  Yindex, 
who  was  governor  of  Celtic  Gaul,  ascended  the 
tribunal,  and  in  an  animated  oration  denounced 


IN    NERO'S    TIME.  37 

the  vices  of  Nero,  his  cruelties,  his  infamies,  the 
death  of  his  mother  by  his  orders,  and  the  crimes 
which  to  this  day  cling  to  his  memory,  as  one  of 
the  most  depraved  monsters  that  ever  existed. 
He  called  upon  his  hearers,  not  to  rise  in  insur- 
rection against  the  Roman  empire,  but  to  com- 
bine for  the  more  limited  purpose  of  removing 
Nero  from  the  government.  The  people,  being 
already  greatly  exasperated,  took  arms  at  this  ex- 
hortation, and  Vindex  was  soon  at  the  head  of  one 
hundred  thousand  men.  It  is  said  that  Nero  was 
rather  pleased  than  alarmed  by  this  formidable  in- 
surrection, conceiving  it  would  afford  his  treasury 
great  wealth  from  the  forfeited  estates  of  the  in- 
surgents. He  placed  a  reward  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  myriads  of  drachms  upon  the  head  of 
Yindex.  When  this  was  told  to  the  daring 
leader,  he  repHed,  "  To  whomsoever  will  deliver 
to  me  the  head  of  Nero,  I  will  be  contented  to 
resign  my  own  life  in  return,  for  having  destroyed 
so  great  an  enemy  to  the  human  race." 

But  of  all  Vindex's  reproaches,  Nero  was  most 
moved  by  that  in  which  the  Gallic  insurgent  called 
him  a  wretched  fiddler.  Leaving  the  topic  of  his 
mother's  death,  and  similar  horrors,  he  complain- 
ed bitterly  to  the  Roman  people  of  the  eispersions 
thrown  out  against  his  taste  and  power  as  a  musi- 
cal performer  ;  and,  that  the  Romans  might  judge 
how  little  they  were  deserved,  he  -  introduced  a 
voluntary  or  two  into  the  oration  which  he  deliver- 
ed on  that  occasion. 

Meantime,  Virgilius  Rufus,  a  Roman  general 
who  commanded  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  ad- 
vanced against  Vindex.  It  was  thought  the  two 
commanders  would  have  come  to  an  understand- 

VOL.  I.  4 


38  PERSECUTION    OF    CHRISTIANS. 

ing ;  but  the  armies  approaching  each  other, 
skirmishes  ensued,  which  led  to  a  general  action, 
in  which  Vindex  was  defeated,  with  the  loss  of 
twenty  thousand  men.  Hurried  on  by  a  species 
of  despair,  of  which  the  ancient  Romans  >vere  but 
too  susceptible,  the  defeated  general  killed  him- 
self just  before  the  time  of  Nero's  dethronement 
and  death.   , 

After  the  death  of  Vindex,  there  is  little  worthy 
of  notice  in  the  history  of  Gaul,  except  that,  like 
other  provinces  of  the  empire,  it  suffered  the  most 
severe  and  tyrannical  exactions  at  the  hands  of 
the  Roman  governors  ;  and  that  the  generals  w^ho 
commanded  there  often  assumed  the  purple,  and 
gave  place,  by  their  ambition,  to  wars,  of  which 
Gaul  became  the  scene.  The  Gauls  were,  for 
example,  among  the  first  to  recognise  as  emperor 
the  celebrated  Septimius  Severus,  who,  in  begin- 
ning his  career  of  ambition,  was  governor  of  the 
province  of  Lyons.  The  last  scene  of  the  civil 
wars  which  completed  the  elevation  of  Severus  to 
the  imperial  throne,  was  the  defeat  of  his  rival  Al- 
binus,  at  a  place  called  Timurteum,  about  twenty 
leagues  from  Lyons.  A  severe,  but  local  perse- 
cution of  the  Christians  disturbed  Gaul  under  the 
reign  of  this  able  emperor,  who  was  indignant  at 
a  Christian  soldier  who  refused  to  wear  a  crown 
or  coronet,  delivered  to  him  as  a  donation,  agree- 
ably to  the  command  of  his  general,  but  which  a 
religious  dread  of  committing  idolatry  prohibited 
him  from  making  use  of.  St.  Irenaeus,  the  bishop 
of  Lyons,  fell,  among  other  martyrs,  about  the 
year  of  God  202. 

As  the  Roman  empire  began  now  to  totter  to- 
wards its  fall,  different  barbarous  nations,  whom 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    FRANKS.  39 

by  force  of  arms  she  had  first  compelled  to  retire 
from  her  boundaries,  began  to  thicken  around 
her,  in  some  instances  with  the  purpose  of  mere 
ravage  and  plunder,  in  others,  with  the  more  re- 
solved intent  of  making  conquests  and  settle- 
ments, within  the  iiAperial  territory.  Three  of 
the  nations  or  coalitions  of  tribes,  who  had  re- 
garded Gaul  as  their  natural  conquest,  require  to 
be  distinguished  from  each  other.  The  most  re- 
markable, from  their  becoming  the  corner-stone 
of  the  great  monarchy  to  which  they  afforded  a 
name,  are  the  Franks,  the  undoubted  founders  of 
the  present  kingdom  of  France.  From  whence 
the  people  were  derived,  whose  memory  has  been 
preserved  by  such  distinction,  has  been  the  sub- 
ject of  much  discussion. 

In  olden  times,  a  fanciful  origin  was  imagined 
for  the  Franks,  which  England  had  also  adopted, 
namely,  that  they  claimed  their  descent  from  the 
Trojans,  of  classical  antiquity.  At  a  later  period, 
Pannonia  and  Gaul  were  fixed  upon  as  the  native 
country  of  the  Franks.  But  a  more  probable 
opinion  has  gained  ground  in  later  days,  which 
has  been  generally  recommended  by  its  simpli- 
city. 

The  Germans,  the  most  formidable  enemies 
of  Rome  since  the  days  of  Caesar,  repeatedly  de- 
feated by  the  discipline  of  the  Romans,  but 
always  resisting  them,  and  often  victorious  in 
their  turn,  are  supposed,  about  the  middle  of  the 
third  century,  to  have  formed  a  new  association 
or  alliance  among  their  eastern  tribes,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  mutual  defence,  to  which,  in  token  of  their 
love  of  liberty  and  their  resolution  to  maintain  it, 
they  gave  the   name  of  Franks,   or    Freemen, 


40         THE  FRANKS  RAVAGE  GAUL. 

though  each  tribe  was  individually  known  from 
the  others  by  its  own  name.  In  this  confederacy, 
they  at  first  acknowledged  no  supreme  head,  nor 
was  authority  assumed  by  any  one  state  over  the 
others. 

The  purest  equality,  and  the  plan  of  acting  for 
each  other's  mutual  support,  seem  to  have  been 
at  once  the  object  and  the  conditions  of  the  con- 
federacy. This  formidable  people  commenced  a 
set  of  furious  incursions  upon  Gaul,  which  the 
Romans,  under  Gallienus  and  Posthumus,  endea- 
voured to  repel,  in  a  long  series  of  bloody  wars, 
and  in  which  both  parties  unquestionably  sus- 
tained great  losses.  The  province  itself  suffered 
greatly  from  the  miHtary  operations,  being  necessa- 
rily exposed  to  the  ravages  of  both  parties,  whether 
Romans  or  Franks. 

Indeed,  notwithstanding  the  opposition  of  Galli- 
enus and  Posthumus,  the  south-eastern  provinces  of 
Gaul  were  so  cruelly  ravaged,  that  they  afforded 
little  spoil  to  the  invaders ;  so  that  latterly  the 
Franks'  only  used  them  as  a  road  to  the  Pyrenees, 
and  from  thence  into  Spain,  which,  unharassed  as 
yet  by  shuilar  invasions,  contained  a  spoil  far  more 
tempting.  They  even  seized  upon  vessels,  and 
crossed  to  Africa,  where  they  also  found  provinces 
plentiful  of  spoil,  and  colonies  little  acquainted  with 
the  art  of  war. 

The  Franks,  who  thus  laid  waste  by  rapid  excur 
sions  the  provinces  of  the  Roman  Empire,  had  yet 
a  country  which  they  called  their  own,  where  they 
resided,  when  they  chose  for  a  time  to  abide  at  rest. 
To  their  original  settlements  on  the  eastern  or  Ger- 
man side  of  the  Rhine  they  had  added  a  consider- 
able tract,   called  at  that  time  Toxandria,  which 


THE    ALLEMANNI    DEFEATED.  41 

appears  to  have  comprehended  great  part  of  the  pre- 
sent province  of  Brabant,  their  habitations  being  in 
woods  and  morasses,  or  on  the  adjacent  banks  of 
lakes  and  rivers,  as  they  could  best  surround  them 
with  rude  fortifications,  formed  out  of  the  trunks  of 
trees. 

The  Allemanni  were  another  and  separate  asso- 
ciation, resembling  that  of  the  Franks,  and  insti- 
tuted upon  similar  principles.  The  Suevi  formed 
the  strength  of  this  confederation  ;  a  tribe  so  much 
esteemed  for  courage  by  the  neighbouring  nations, 
that  the  Germans  told  Caesar  even  the  immortal 
gods  could  scarcely  match  them  in  fight.  This 
brave  people  comprehended,  besides,  so  many 
members,  that  they  assumed  the  title  of  Allemanni, 
or  All-men,  to  mark  the  comprehensive  principle  of 
general  union  on  which  their  league  rested. 

Besides  making  distant  and  extensive  excursions, 
one  of  which  brought  them  almost  to  the  city  of 
Rome  itself,  which  was  in  great  danger  of  falling 
into  their  hands,  they,  like  the  Franks,  had  a  fixed 
abode.  This  second  confederacy  of  the  German 
tribes  had  their  settlements  on  the  eastern  banks  of 
the  Upper  Rhine ;  and  their  vicinity  was  not  less 
formidable  to  Gaul  than  that  of  the  Franks. 

About  the  year  357,  Julian,  who,  from  his 
renouncing  the  Christian  religion,  obtained  the  hate- 
ful epithet  of  the  Apostate,  was  sent,  with  very 
insufficient  forces,  to  rescue  Gaul  from  the  ravages 
of  the  barbarians,  and  discharged  his  duty  with  un- 
expected success.  He  defeated  the  Allemanni  in 
the  battle  of  Strasburg,  and  after  obtaining  this  vic- 
tory, he  crossed  the  Rhine  three  times,  and  upon 
each  occasion  took  forts,  won  battles,  or  gained 
other  successes  ;  so  that  Gaul  was  for  a  time  re- 
4* 


42 JULIAN    THE    APOSTATE. 

lieved  from  the  incursions  of  these  barbarous  ene  • 
mies,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  Julian,  its  towns 
were  rebuilt,  and  its  prosperity  re-established. 

The  historian  Gibbon,  who,  from  his  enmity  to 
the  Christian  religion,  shows  a  great  desire  to  make 
a  hero  out  of  Juhan,  has  not,  it  is  true,  said  more 
than  enough  in  praise  of  his  talents.  But  though 
certainly  a  prince  of  lively  parts,  and  great  personal 
activity,  we  cannot  attribute  soundness  of  under- 
standing to  the  man  of  education,  who  should  prefer 
the  mysterious  jargon  of  Plato's  philosophy,  and  the 
coarse  polytheism  of  the  heathen  religion,  to  the 
pure  simplicity  of  the  Gospel. 

The  provinces  of  Gaul  shared  for  some  time  the 
advantages  procured  by  the  active  talents  of  Julian ; 
and  it  would  seem,  that  although  the  Franks  were 
celebrated  for  a  rude  and  fickle  temper,  yet  for  a 
period  of  years  they  remained  faithful  to  Rome  ;  a 
fidelity  which  was  probably  purchased  by  occasional 
subsidies.  They  even  resisted  the  strong  tempta- 
tion of  an  opportunity  to  break  their  alliance  with 
the  Romans,  in  the  great  invasion  of  Rhodagast,  or 
Radagaisus,  which  may  be  said  in  its  event  alto- 
gether to  have  destroyed  the  very  slight  remains  of 
the  Roman  empire,  excepting  in  Italy  itself. 

This  barbarian  prince  had  collected  an  immense 
army  from  the  shores  of  the  Baltic  sea,  in  which  so 
many  were  sprung  of  pure  Gothic  descent,  that  the 
name  of  King  of  the  Goths  was  generally,  though 
inaccurately,  given  to  their  commander.  The  Van- 
dals, the  Suevi,  the  Burgundians,  joined  his  stand- 
ard. But  though  the  Western  Emperor  Honorius 
was  a  timid  and  inefficient  prince,  his  minister,  Sti- 
licho,  a  man  of  ambition,  warlike  skill,  and  political 
talent,^with  an  army,  the  last  apparently  which  he 


THE    GOTHS    INVADE    GAUL.  43 

could  raise,  came  upon  the  King  of  the  Goths  while 
he  was  engaged  in  the  siege  of  Florence,  and,  by 
a  hasty  circumvallation,  surrounded  the  besiegers, 
who,  in  their  turn,  were  besieged,  reduced  to  a  starv- 
ing condition,  and  obhged  to  suiTcnder. 

But  though  Radagaisus  and  his  host  were  made 
captive,  yet  two-thirds  of  his  original  forces,  amount- 
ing to  one  hundred  thousand  men,  were  still  in  arms 
in  the  north  of  Italy.  It  is  said  that  Stilicho  insinu- 
ated to  them  the  advice  to  attack  Gaul,  as  perhaps 
the  only  means  by  which  he  could  relieve  Italy  of 
such  unwelcome  guests.  They  took  the  hint  ac- 
cordingly, and,  ascending  the  Alps  at  different  points, 
and  approaching  the  Rhine  on  various  quarters,  ap- 
peared as  invaders  on  the  frontiers  of  Gaul. 

In  this  exploit,  those  who  attacked  Gaul  from  the 
Upper  Rhine  experienced  neither  assistance  nor 
opposition  from  the  Allemanni.  But  the  Vandals, 
whose  great  numbers  had  enabled,  or  perhaps  obli- 
ged, them  to  separate  from  the  barbaric  host,  ap- 
proached the  territories  occupied  by  the  Franks,  on 
the  lower  part  of  the  river.  The  Franks,  faithful  to 
their  engagements  with  the  Romans,  advanced  in 
arms  to  oppose  them,  and  in  the  battle  which  ensued 
twenty  thousand  Vandals  were  slain.  But  the  arri- 
val of  the  Alani,  another  nation  of  barbarians,  who 
came  up  during  the  conflict,  compelled  the  Franks 
to  retreat,  and  to  desist  from  the  defence  of  the  river, 
to  which  their  numbers  were  unequal. 

Without  further  opposition,  then,  the  roving  bar- 
barians, consisting  of  several  tribes,  the  remains  of 
the  army  of  Radagaisus,  crossed  the  Rhine,  which 
was  then  frozen,  and  carried  fire  and  sword  into  the 
rich  country,  which  had  in  a  few  years  recovered 
from  the  devastations  of  the  Franks  and  Allemanni. 


44  THE    FRANKS. 


and  reduced  it  again  to  a  smoking  desert,  never 
more  to  assume  the  name  of  a  civilized  province  of 
Rome,  but  to  remain  the  theatre  in  which  contending 
races  of  barbarians  were  to  exercise  themselves 
against  each  other  in  bloody  conflict.  This  inva- 
sion of  Gaul  took  place  in  407. 


CHAP.  III. 

Gaul  could  be  no  longer  considered  as  an  ap- 
pendage to  the  Roman  empire,  if  indeed  the  empire 
itself  could  be  said  still  to  exist.  The  province  was 
filled  with  tribes  of  barbarians  of  Gothic  or  Celtic 
descent,  carrying  on  desultory  warfare  with  each 
other,  which  having  neither  a  permanent  result  nor 
motive,  becomes  of  as  little  consequence  to  history, 
as,  to  use  an  expression  of  Milton,  the  battles  of  the 
kites  and  the  crov/s. 

The  name  of  Rome  was  still  used  in  these  scenes 
of  confusion  ;  iEtius,  the  minister  and  general  of 
Yalentinian  TIL,  a  man  of  courage,  doubtless,  but 
who  had  no  means  to  follovv'  up  his  attempts  to  re- 
claim the  province  of  Gaul  from  the  barbarous 
hordes  by  which  it  had  been  ravaged,  save  by  the 
arms  of  others  yet  more  barbarous  than  those  by 
which  Gaul  was  overrun  and  occupied,  made, 
nevertheless,  by  the  aid  of  such  auxiliaries,  a  consi- 
derable stand.  We  are  compelled  to  notice  one  or 
two  of  the  more  important  nations,  to  whom  some 
degree  of  settled  government  had  given  the  appear- 
ance of  a  certain  advancement  in  social  life. 


THE    GOTHS.  45 


The  Franks  are  in  this  case  to  be  pecuUarly  at- 
tended to,  as  in  their  descendants  we  must  look  for 
the  origin  of  the  powerful  kingdom  of  France.  We 
have  already  seen  that  they  occupied  both  sides  of 
the  Rhine  in  its  lower  course,  and  at  first  opposed 
the  remains  of  Radagaisus'  army,  till  overpowered 
by  the  joint  force  of  the  Vandals  and  the  other 
hordes.  The  Franks  seem  then  to  have  resolved 
to  seize  upon  a  share  of  the  prize  which  they  could 
no  longer  defend.  They  advanced  their  banners 
accordingly,  r-^^d  nmidst  the  general  confusion,  found 
no  difficulty  in  adding  to  their  western  frontier  a 
large  portion  of  territory,  comprehending  nearly  two 
of  the  praetorian  governments,  into  sixteen  of  which 
the  Romans  had  divided  Gaul. 

At  this  period  they  had  established  kingly  govern- 
ment by  hereditary  descent  in  the  Merovingian 
family.  These  princes  allowed  their  hair  to  descend 
in  long  curls  over  their  shoulders,  while  the  rest  of 
the  Franks  shaved  the  hair  on  the  back  part  of  the 
head,  from  whence  the  Merovingian  dynasty  were 
entitled  the  Long-haired  Kings.  Their  dominions 
extended  as  far  westward  as  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
Somme. 

The  Goths,  meaning  that  part  of  them  called 
Visigoths,  or  Western  Goths,  had  established  them- 
selves in  the  province  of  Gascony,  and  the  adjacent 
parts  of  Spain  ;  and  their  chief,  Theodoric,  a  prince 
of  great  resolution,  having  been  converted  with  his 
subjects  to  the  Christian  faith,  had  shown  more 
wisdom  and  strength  of  mind  than  v/ere  usually  the 
attributes  of  barbaric  princes.  With  Tlfeodoric, 
-SLtiuS,  the  Roman  general,  made  war,  as  one  by 
whose  arms  Gaul  was  most  likely  to  be  detached 
from  the  empire.     But  a  common  enemy  was  ap- 


46 THE    SARMATIANS. 

preaching,  of  a  power  so  formidable  as  to  compel 
both  parties  to  unite  in  resisting  him. 

The  latter  days  of  the  Roman  empire  were  mark- 
ed by  many  of  those  emigrations  upon  a  great  scale, 
by  which  the  nations  who  were  put  in  motion  were 
precipitated  upon  such  as  remained  quiet,  with  the 
impulse  of  a  river  in  inundation,  overwhelming  or 
bearing  before  them  the  settlements  of  former  ages, 
and  sometimes  destroying  all  memory  of  their  exist- 
ence. Thus  had  one  race  succeeded  another  in 
Europe.  The  Celts  had  been  its  original  settlers; 
the  Goths,  more  strong,  wise,  and  powerful,  had 
driven  this  primitive  people  into  the  retreats  of  the 
mountains  and  valleys,  where  their  remains  are  still 
to  be  found. 

The  Sarmatian  race  also  showed  itself  amid  these 
successive  revolutions  ;  and  the  Alani,  sometimes 
the  scourge,  sometimes  the  protectors,  of  the  Ro- 
man provinces,  were  of  the  third  great  family,  who 
were  distinguished  by  a  language  and  manners  con- 
siderably different  from  those  of  the  Goths,  and 
their  predecessors  the  Celts.  But  this  unhappy 
period,  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries,  was  yet  to  see 
and  suffer  the  remorseless  rage  of  a  fourth  division 
of  mankind,  a  race  yet  different  from  those  by  whom 
they  had  hitherto  suffered. 

It  seemed  the  will  of  Heaven,  to  punish  perhaps 
the  wickedness  of  the  Roman  people,  that  so  fast 
as  one  horde  of  barbarians  had  begun  to  settle  into 
peaceful  inhabitants  of  the  regions  which  they  had 
wasted,  new  bands  were  brought  from  the  extremi- 
ties of  the  earth  to  renew  the  devastations,  which 
had  become  more  infrequent  and  between  the  fresh 
invaders  and  their  precursors,  there  was  so  little  of 
connection,  or  possibility  of  alliance,  that  they  did 


INVASION    OF    THE    HUNS.  47 


not  even  understand  eacli  other's  language.  A  re- 
markable feature  of  this  extraordinary  course  of 
events,  was  the  unexpected  appearance  of  a  count- 
less army  of  Asiatics  on  the  borders  of  the  still 
harassed  Eastern  Empire. 

This  extraordinary  emigration  had  arisen  out  of 
convulsions  so  far  to  the  eastward  as  the  Great 
Wall,  by  which  the  Chinese  emperors  endeavoured 
in  vain  to  protect  themselves  against  the  Tartars  of 
the  desert.  "Whatever  was  the  original  cause  of 
communicating  a  movement  so  general,  it  must 
have  been  of  a  most  formidable  character,  since  it 
acted  so  widely  upon  the  bosom  of  the  Great  De- 
sert. Myriads  of  the  mounted  Tartar  tribes  col- 
lected together,  dragging  or  driving  on  each  other, 
and  poured  on  to  the  westward,  as  if  directed  by  the 
instinct  of  the  locust-swarm,  which  holds  undevia- 
tingly  upon  its  destined  track  to  the  country  which  it 
is  called  to  ravage  and  destroy. 

Wherever  this  tide  of  armed  emigration  came,  it 
struck  universal  terror.  Their  numbers  were  in 
themselves  great,  and  the  velocity  with  which  their 
equestrian  habits  enabled  them  to  move,  magnified 
them  into  innumerable  shoals.  Nor  was  their  ex- 
ternal appearance  less  terrible  than  their  numerical 
force.  The  Gothic  and  German  tribes  had  shown 
the  astonished  provincials  a  strength  of  limb,  and  a 
loftiness  of  stature,  seemingly  beyond  the  usual 
growth.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Huns,  as  these 
new  invaders  were  called,  were  dwarfish  in  stature, 
and  their  limbs,  though  strongly  formed,  exhibited  a 
disproportion  to  each  other,  which  almost  amounted 
to  deformity. 

Their  countenances  were  of  the  cast  commonly 
called  Chinese  ;   and  their  small  sparkling  eyes, 


48  INVASION    OF    THE    HUNS. , 

deep  sunk  beneath  the  skull,  were  placed  at  a  dis- 
tance from  each  other  on  the  extremities  of  an  un- 
natural breadth  of  foreheaJ,  v»hile  a  flat  nose  and  a 
large  mouth  added  peculiar  hideousness  to  the  wild 
and  frightful  expression  of  the  face.  Their  manners 
were  almost  as  horrible  as  their  appearance. 

Under  the  arbitrary  despotism  of  their  chiefs,  they 
became  familiarized  with  ail  the  evils  which  despo- 
tism usually  teaches  its  subjects  to  inflict,  and  to 
submit  to.  Their  manners  were  altogether  fero- 
cious and  brutal,  and  if  we  could  implicitly  trust  the 
accounts  transmitted  to  us,  few  mortals  could  more 
resemble  demons  in  features  and  actions,  than  did 
these  hordes  of  Tartar  savages,  who  appeared  in 
Europe  tov/ards  the  end  of  the  fourth  century. 

The  Gothic  tribes  who  inhabited  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Danube,  were  the  first  to  experiencf 
the  furious  attack  of  these  new  enemies,  and  were 
so  much  struck  with  terror,  that,  like  one  wave  pur- 
sued by  another,  the  body  of  the  nation  poured 
towards  the  banks  of  the  Danube,  and  implored 
permission  to  cross  that  mighty  barrier,  and  to  take 
shelter  under  the  protection  of  the  Roman  Emperor 
of  the  East,  from  the  tide  of  barbarians  which  were 
pouring  upon  them  from  the  deserts  of  Tartary. 

The  Goths  were  incautiously  admitted  to  take 
refuge  within  the  limits  of  the  empire  ;  but  as  at  the 
same  time,  the  venal  lieutenants  of  the  frontier  treat- 
ed them  with  harshness  and  injustice,  the  incensed 
strangers  became  the  most  formidable  enemies  to 
its  tranquillity.  They  never  again  left  the  territory 
of  the  Empire,  but  remained  there,  sometimes  in  the 
character  of  avowed  enemies,  and  at  others  in  that 
of  doubtful  auxiliaries  and  friends,  changing  their 


FIRST    WARS    OF    ATTILA. 49 

relations  as  often  as  caprice  or  desire  of  gain  could 
afford  a  motive  for  doing  so. 

The  Huns,  whose  approach  had  impressed  somuch 
terror  on  the  Goths,  and  constrained  that  redoubted 
nation  to  advance  upon  the  Roman  Empire,  did  not 
themselves  take  the  same  direction  with  the  fugi- 
tives. They  took  undisturbed  possession  of  Hun- 
gary, to  which  they  gave  their  name,  and  of  great 
part  of  eastern  Germany.  These  fertile  regions 
seemed  sufficient  for  their  wants,  and  what  incur- 
sions they  might  make  upon  the  Empire  of  the  East, 
were  not  of  a  grand  or  terrific  character.  It  may 
be  conjectured,  that  at  this  period  the  power  of  this 
wandering  people  was  not  combined  under  one  ge- 
neral head,  and  that  the  thousand  tribes  of  the  Huns 
lived  for  the  time  each  under  the  dominion  of  its  own 
chief,  in  consequence  of  which  the  strength  of  the 
whole  nation  was  not  readily  brought  to  exert  itself. 
But  in  433,  we  find  the  forces  of  the  Huns 
^433"  again  combined  under  the  guidance  of  one 
well  qualified  to  use  a  power  so  tremendous. 
This  was  Attila,  or  Etzell,  as  he  is  called  by  Ger- 
man tradition,  surnamed  by  his  terrified  contempo- 
raries the  Scourge  of  God.  By  the  ferocious  acti- 
vity of  his  followers  actively  seconding  his  own 
natural  disposition,  he  was  enabled  to  make  good  the 
inhuman  boast,  that  grass  never  grew  on  the  spot 
over  which  he  passed.  His  first  wars  were  with  the 
Eastern  Empire,  from  which  he  exacted  a  large 
yearly  tribute,  besides  an  extensive  cession  of  terri- 
tory, and  obliged  Theodosius,  then  Emperor  of  the 
East,  to  submit  to  the  most  humiliating  demands. 
His  protection  was  eagerly  sought  after  by  ^tius, 
called  the  Patrician,  already  mentioned,  who  ob- 
tained, by  the  influence  of  the  King  of  the  Huns 

VOL.  I.  5 


50 ATTILA^S    INVASION    OF    GAUL. 

the  highest  position  of  power  and  trust  at  the  court 
of  Theodosius.  But  ^tius  forgot  gratitude  in  the 
virtue  of  patriotism. 

Attila,  after  hesitating  whether  he  should  attack 
the  Eastern  or  Western  Empire,  and  after  having 
insulted  the  weakness  of  both,  determined  at  last  to 
pour  upon  Gaul  the  terrors  of  a  Tartar  invasion. 
JEtius,  so  much  was  the  pride  of  Rome  fallen,  could 
only  attempt  to  defend  the  Roman  province  against 
the  barbarians  of  the  east,  by  forming  an  alliance 
with  one  of  those  nations  of  barbarians  which  issued 
from  the  north.  I  have  already  told  you  that  the 
Visigoths,  or  Gothic  tribes  of  the  west,  were  in  pos- 
session of  Aquitaine,  and  had  fixed  their  capital  at 
Toulouse. 

This  powerful  nation  was  commanded  by  Theo« 
doric,  the  son  of  a  king  of  the  Goths  called  Alaric, 
and  the  policy  of  ^tius  induced  him  to  obtain  the 
aid  of  the  Gothic  king  for  the  defence  of  Gaul  against 
the  Huns.  These  Tartars  advanced  with  all  their 
tribes  ;  and  Attila,  whose  policy,  like  that  of  most 
barbarians,  consisted  chiefly  in  cunning  and  dupUcity, 
flattered  iEtius  and  Theodoric  alternately  with  his 
friendship,  and  threatened  them  with  his  formidable 
enmity  ;  thus  preventing  them,  for  a  time,  from  com- 
bining their  forces  for  the  common  safety,  by  sug- 
gesting to  each  that  the  peril  respected  the  other 
alone.  While  thus  amusing  Theodoric  and  -3Etius, 
Attila,  by  a  march  seldom  equalled,  passed  from 
Hungary  to  Gaul,  crossed  the  Rhine  by  a  bridge  of, 
boats,  penetrated  into  the  centre  of  the  province  of 
Gaul,  which  he  wasted,  and  laid  siege  to  the  impor- 
tant town  of  Orleans.  But  mutual  alarm  had  now 
accomplished  that  union  between  the  Roman  Patri- 
cian and  the  valiant  Gothic  monarch,  which  mutual 


BATTLE    OF    CHALONS. 51 

distrust  had  so  long  impeded.  Theodoric  raised  a 
powerful  army,  and  appeared  at  their  head  ;  -^tius 
called  to  arms  the  other  barbarous  people  in  Gaul, 
who  still  set  some  value  on  the  name  of  Roman 
Confederates,  and  among  them  brought  to  the  field 
Merovaeus,  the  long-haired  king  of  the  Franks, 
though  Attila  called  that  nation  his  allies. 

Having  formed  the  plan  of  their  campaign,  the 
allies  marched  forward  with  such  rapidity,  that  they 
well  nigh  surprised  Attila  while  he  was  engaged  in 
the  attack  on  Orleans.  On  their  approach,  he  was 
compelled  to  raise  the  siege,  and,  recrossing  the 
river  Seine,  concentrated  his  immense  clouds  of 
cavalry  near  Chalons,  in  the  province  of  Cham- 
paigne.  The  Goths,  with  the  army  of  ^tius,  ad- 
vanced against  him,  and  the  crisis  seemed  to  ap- 
proach, in  which  the  fate  of  battle  was  to  decide  to 
whom  this  fair  portion  of  Europe  was  doomed  to 
belong.  Both  were  barbarians  ;  but  the  Goths, 
having  received  the  Christian  faith,  had  at  the  same 
time  adopted  some  of  the  attendant  doctrines  of 
morality,  which  mitigated  the  ferocity  of  their  natural 
manners.  But  even  ere  they  enjoyed  these  inesti- 
mable advantages,  they  possessed  as  much  superior- 
ity over  the  Tartars  in  the  turn  of  their  mind  and 
manners,  as  in  their  stately  and  well-formed  persons, 
which  showed  to  such  advantage,  compared  to  their 
misshapen  and  fiendish  looking  enemies.  They 
were  a  people  accustomed  to  pride  themselves  in 
subduing  and  resisting  the  brutal  impulses  of  their 
nature,  without  which  power  of  restraint  man  is 
levelled  with  the  beasts  that  perish.  The  Huns,  on 
the  contrary,  wallowed  in  every  pleasure  that  could 
gratify  their  animal  instinct.  The  plurality  of  wives 
in  which  they  indulged,  produced  among  them  all 


52 BATTLE    OF    CHALONS. 

the  usual  consequences  of  degradation  of  the  female 
sex,  and  indifference  between  the  parents  and  the 
^offspring. 

The  battle  of  Chalons,  therefore,  was  likely  to  de- 
termine whether  the  European  or  the  Asiatic  savage, 
alike  in  rude  and  ferocious  courage,  but  differing  in 
so  many  other  qualities,  was  to  predominate  in  the 
province  of  Gaul.  This  engagement,  fought  in 
the  year  450,  was  disputed  with  an  obstina- 
4*50.*  ^y  ^^^  fury,  befitting  the  great  stake  for  which 
these  fearless  nations,  on  fire  with  rivalry,  and 
each  proud  of  its  ancient  name,  pursued  the  bloody 
game  of  war.  The  aged,  but  valiant  king  of  the 
Goths,  Theodoric,  was  killed  in  the  front  of  the  bat- 
tle, but  his  place  being  bravely  filled  by  his  eldest 
son,  Torrimond,  the  impetuous  career  of  his  follow- 
ers was  not  checked,  and  Attila  himself  was  com- 
pelled, by  the  strength  and  fury  of  the  Goths,  to 
seek,  after  the  Scythian  custom,  a  retreat  among  his 
wagons,  which  were  sometimes  the  means  of  trans- 
porting their  families,  and  scmetimes  their  fortifica- 
tion against  a  prevailing  enemy. 

The  troops,  which  sustained  the  once  formidable 
name  of  Romans,  suffered  greatly,  and  ^tius,  their 
leader,  was  separated  from  his  soldiers,  and  with 
difficulty  found  refuge  in  the  camp  of  his  allies. 
But  such  a  battle  was  dreadful  to  the  victors  as  well 
as  the  vanquished,  and  the  Goths  and  Romans  judg- 
ed it  more  prudent  to  sutler  Attila  to  effect  a  sullen 
and  slow  retreat,  watched  by  a  part  of  their  army, 
than  to  risk  the  glory  of  their  hard-won  victory,  in 
an  attempt  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  Tartar  prince. 
Attila  arrived  in  the  northern  parts  of  Italy,  without 
having,  in  his  retreat,  suffered  any  considerable 
abatement  of  power,  or  by  liis  defeat  lost  much  ot 


CONQUESTS    OF    CLOVIS.  53 

his  renown.  He  died  not  long  after,  having  com- 
pelled the  Roman  Emperor  of  the  East  to  give  to 
him,  as  one  of  his  many  wives,  a  beautiful  daughter 
with  an  immense  dowery.  Shortly  after  this  event 
the  Western  Empire  was  entirely  extinguished,  and 
a  kingdom  of  Italy  erected  in  its  place. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

I  HAVE  already  fixed  your  attention  upon  the 
Franks  as  the  people  who  were  destined  to  become 
the  founders  of  modern  France.  But  the  original 
extent  of  their  dominions  was  small ;  the  increase 
of  their  power  slow  ;  nor  did  they  for  a  length  of 
time  bear  much  comparison  with  the  Burgundians, 
who  occupied  the  south-east  of  France,  or  with  the 
still  more  numerous  Visigoths,  who  repulsed  the 
formidable  host  under  Attila. 

We  have  already  given  some  account  of  them 
and  their  long-haired  kings,  who  were  called  after 
Merovajus,  the  ally  of  ^tius  and  of  Theodoric,  at 
the  famous  battle  of  Chalons.  But  in  his  time  the 
Franks  can  only  be  said  to  have  kept  their  ground. 

In  the  time  of  Clovis,  (which  is  the  same  name 
with  Louis,  the  chl  of  the  Celtic  tribes  resembling 
the  aspirated  consonant  /i/,)  the  power  of  the  nation 
made  great  advances,  rather  by  the  address  and  abi- 
lity of  the  monarch,  than  by  the  superior  valour  of 
his  followers,  though  the  Franks  were  allowed  to  be 
among  the  bravest  of  the  German  tribes  who  in- 
vaded Gaul. 

5* 


54 coNguESTS  of  clovis. 

'  Such  of  the  GalUc  colonists  as  still  chose  to  re- 
tain the  name  of  Romans,  endeavom-ed  to  embody 
themselves  under  the  command  of  one  Syagrius, 
who  established  his  head-quarters  at  Soissons.  But 
Clovis,  with  his  warlike  Franks  commenced  his  ca- 
reer of  conquest  by  defeating  him  ;  and  ob- 
taining possession  of  his  person,  caused  him  to  -J.-  °* 
be  beheaded,  and  seized  upon  his  dominions, 
which  added  to  the  territories  of  the  Franks  the 
provinces  of  Gaul  betwixt  the  Rhine  and  the  Loire. 
Clovis  afterwards  conquered  a  king  of  Thuringia 
named  Basin,  and  extended  his  sway  over  his  coun- 
try, the  inhabitants  of  which  were  the  more  severel}' 
treated,  that  they  had  formerly  joined  Attila,  and 
committed  frightful  cruelties  upon  the  Goths  and 
Franks,  after  the  battle  of  Chalons.  But  Clovis' 
destiny  was  principally  determined  by  his  adopting 
the  Christian  faith.  The  chief  agent  in  his  conver- 
sion, was  his  queen,  Clotilda,  daughter  of  Gundo- 
bald.  King  of  Burgundy,  his  neighbour  and  ally. 

By  her  affectionate  exhortations,  the  mind  of  her 
husband  was  disposed  to  Christianity,  though  he 
long  hesitated  to  embrace  a  religion  which  imposed 
many  restrictions.  At  length,  in  a  battle  with  the 
Allemanni,  often  already  mentioned  as  holding  the 
upper  part  of  the  Rhine,  Clovis,  hard  pressed,  was 
induced  to  vow,  that  if  he  should  obtain  a  victory, 
which  seemed  extremely  doubtful,  he  would  become 
a  Chri';  lian.  The  King  of  the  Allemanni  wns  slain, 
his  r.ixiiy  discomfited,  and  the  acquisition  of  his  do- 
minions greatly  augmented  the  power  of  the  Franks. 
After  this  conquest,  Clovis  adopted  the  Chris 
•^•^'  tian  faith,  according  to  his  vow,  and  was  bapti- 
zed in  the  Cathedral  of  Rheims,  wheie  it  has 


RELIGION    OF    THE    VISIGOTHS 65 

been  ever  since  the  custom  to  crown  and  consecrate 
the  monarchs  of  France. 

Burgundy,  the  country  of  his  wife,  was  after- 
wards subjected  by  this  ambitious  King  ;  for  Clovis 
was  equally  a  dexterous  politician,  an  accomplished 
soldier,  and,  we  must  add,  an  ambitious  and  unscru- 
pulous man  :  by  such  characters  are  kingdoms  ac- 
quired, and  their  limits  augmented. 

Gundobald  was  attacked  and  defeated,  and  after 
his  death,  his  son  Sigismond  was  taken,  and  put  to 
death;  the  sons  of  Clovis  causing  him  and  his 
family  to  be  thrown  into  a  well. 

But,  before  the  conquest  of  Burgundy  was  per- 
fected, a  war  broke  out  between  Clovis  and  those 
Visigoths,  who,  in  the  time  of  Theodoric,  had 
assisted  in  defeating  Attila  at  the  battle  of  Chalons. 
These  Yisigoths  were  Arians,  that  is,  they  held 
certain  opinions  on  the  most  abstruse  and  mysteri- 
ous doctrines  of  Christianity,  taught  by  a  clergyman 
called  Arius,  which  are  contrary  to  those  accepted 
by  the  Catholic  Church. 

Unhappily  for  both  sides,  the  Christians  of  those 
early  ages  chose  rather  to  make  these  differences  in 
speculative  opinion  the  means  of  persecuting  each 
other,  than  listen  to  the  great  precept  of  the  Gospel, 
which  imposes  on  us  the  duty  to  love  our  neighbour 
as  ourselves. 

The  Visigoths  were  at  this  time  governed  by  a 
prince  called  Alaric,  who  was  stirred,  doubtless,  by 
the  blood  of  his  renowned  ancestor  of  the  same 
name,  and  jealous  of  the  growing  conquests  of  the 
Catholic  Clovis.  The  two  monarchs  met  as  friends 
upon  an  island  in  the  Loire,  which  now  divided  their 
dominions.  But  it  is  remarkable  how  seldom  such 
interviews  serve  to  prolong  peace  and  good  under- 


56  DEFEAT    OF    THE    GOTHS. 

standing  betwixt  princes.  They  feasted  together, 
and  parted  in  appearance  as  friends,  but  whh  mu- 
tual rancour  at  heart.  Clovis  held  a  council  of  his 
barons  ; — "  Let  not  these  Arian  heretics,"  he  said, 
"  longer  enjoy  the  choicest  portion  of  Gaul !" 

He  was  answered  by  loud  acclamations,  and,  to 
give  evidence  of  his  own  zeal,  rode  to  the  front  of 
his  nobles,  and  darting  his  battle-axe  forward  with  a 
strong  arm  and  desperate  aim,  "  Where  my  francisca 
alights,"  he  said,  (such  was  the  name  which  the 
Franks  gave  to  their  war-axes,)  "  will  I  dedicate  a 
church  to  the  blessed  St.  Peter,  Prince  of  the  Apos- 
tles, and  to  his  holy  brethren  !" 

The  weapon  lighted  on  the  spot  where  Clovis 
erected  the  Great  Church,  now  called  that  of  St. 
Genevieve,  formerly  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul.  Un- 
der these  auspices,  Clovis  advanced  against  Alaric, 
who  appeared  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  Goths,  far 
superior  to  that  of  the  Franks.  In  the  anxiety  of  the 
moment,  Clovis  endeavoured  to  propitiate  the  saints 
by  magnificent  promises.  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  who 
had  been  active  in  the  general  conversion  of  Gaul, 
was  the  principal  object  of  his  vows.  He  endeavour- 
ed to  propitiate  that  saint  with  many  promises,  and 
particularly  that  of  dedicating  to  him  a  favourite 
charger,  which  was  perhaps  the  thing  in  the  world 
which  he  loved  most  dearly.  The  King  of  Franks 
joined  battle  with  Alaric,  near  Poitiers,  where  ^^' 
the  usual  good  fortune  of  Clovis  prevailed. 

He  showed  his  personal  gallantry  in  the  pursuit, 
and,  attaching  himself  to  the  person  of  Alaric,  slew 
him  with  his  own  lance,  while  at  the  same  time  he 
made  his  escape  with  difficulty  from  two  desperate 
Gothic  champions,  who  united  to  avenge  their  mo- 
narch's death  by  that  of  his  conqueror. 


CHARACTER   OF    CLOVIS. 57 

The  risk  which  Clovis  had  eluded  by  his  own 
dexterity,  and  the  excellent  qualities  of  his  approved 
charger,  endeared  the  noble  animal  to  him,  and  he 
endeavoured  to  repurchase  him  at  the  price  of  one 
hundred  golden  pieces,  from  the  saint  to  whom  the 
good  horse  had  been  pledged  by  the  royal  vow. 
But  he  was  displeased  to  learn  that  St.  Martin  had 
vindicated  his  property,  and  that  the  steed  would  not 
stir  from  his  stable  till  redeemed  at  a  higher  rate  by 
his  secular  master. 

"  An  excellent  friend  in  time  of  need,  this  St. 
Martin,"  said  the  king,  somewhat  fretted  at  the 
saint's  tenacity ;  "  but  rather  difficult  to  transact 
business  with."  He  continued,  however,  his  at- 
tachment to  the  saint,  and  his  bounty  to  the  exist- 
ing clergy,  which  secured  for  the  founder  of  the 
Frank  monarchy  a  fairer  character  in  the  pages 
of  the  monkish  historians  than  his  crimes  de- 
serve. 

Clovis'  reputation  as  a  conqueror  was,  in  his 
latter  years,  somewhat  tarnished  by  a  defeat  receiv- 
ed before  Aries,  from  Theocoric  the  Great,  King  of 
the  Ostrogoths,  but  it  did  not  greatly  affect  his 
power.  His  religion,  however,  consisted  chiefly  in 
superstition,  and  his  esteem  for  St.  Martin  never  in- 
terrupted the  course  of  unscrupulous  ambition  which, 
on  every  possible  occasion,  seized  the  opportunity 
of  extending  his  dominions  either  by  fraud  or  vio- 
lence. Such  princes  of  the  Merovingian  race, 
whose  interests  seemed  likely  to  interfere  with  his 
own  family,  he  cut  off  without  mercy.  Of  others, 
he  shaved  the  long  hair,  and  having  thus  rendered 
them  incapable  of  assuming  the  established  mark  of 
regal  sway,  shut  them  up  in  cloisters.  If  he  sus- 
pected them  to  be  capable  of  reflecting  that  their 


58 LAWS    AND    CUSTOM 

hair  would  grow  again,  he  took  sterner  and  more 
fatal  means  of  shutting  the  paths  of  ambition  against 
them. 

Yet,  though  stained  with  the  blood  of  his  own  re- 
latives as  well  as  others,  Clo^^s,  with  many  crimes  as 
an  individual,  had  great  virtues  as  a  monarch.  He 
not  only  extended  the  power  of  his  tribe,  over  what 
we  must  in  future  call  France,  combining  into  one 
strong  monarchy  the  shattered  and  broken  fragments 
of  so  many  barbarous  tribes,  as  well  as  the  feeble 
remains  of  the  Roman  settlers  in  Gaul ;  but  he 
ruled  them  by  equitable  and  humane  laws,  being  the 
first  of  the  barbarous  conquerors  of  what  had  con- 
stituted the  Roman  empire,  who  tried  to  restore 
order  in  the  dominions  he  acquired,  and  engaged 
himself  in  creating,  as  well  as  destroying,  the  social 
union. 

His  code  of  laws  were  called  the  Salic  and  Ripu- 
arian,  from  having  their  origin  on  the  banks  of  the 
Saal,  and  the  eastern  side  of  the  Rhine  ;  and  in  their 
peculiar  character  they  bore  the  stamp  of  the  war- 
like freedom  which  distinguished  the  ancient  Franks. 
The  King  of  the  Franks  gave  to  his  friends  and  fol- 
lowers the  personal  and  temporary  possession  of 
benefices,  fiefs,  or  farms,  varying  in  extent  and 
value,  stipulating  the  service  of  the  vassal,  in  peace 
or  war,  in  return  for  abandoning  to  him  the  profits  of 
the  soil.  Originally,  these  grants  terminated  at  the 
will  of  the  holder  of  the  soil,  at  least  at  the  death 
of  the  tenant ;  but  at  last  it  became  usual  to  renew 
the  grant,  as  a  matter  of  course,  on  the  death  of  the 
vassal,  and  in  favour  of  his  eldest  son,  or  nearest 
heir,  who  paid,  or  rendered,  a  certain  acknowledg- 
ment for  receiving  this  preference. 

The  female  inheritance  of  fiefs  was  prohibited  by 


OF    THE    FRANKS. 59 

the  Salic  law,  and  the  consequence,  by  excluding 
the  Kings  of  England  from  the  throne  of  France,  led 
to  those  long  and  bloody  wars  which  perpetuate  the 
remembrance  of  the  original  edict. 

In  many  respects,  the  Frank  institutions  were 
those  of  barbarians.  Slaughter  was  only  punished 
by  a  fine,  which  differed  according  to  the  arbitrary 
value  at  which  the  law  rated  the  persons  slain. 
Ordeals  of  various  kinds  were  referred  to,  in  which 
the  Deity  was  expected  to  work  a  miracle,  in  order 
to  make  manifest  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  an  ac- 
cused person,  by  protecting  him  from  being  burnt 
when  walking  barefoot  among  masses  of  hot  iron  ; 
and  similar  unreasonable  appeals  were  admitted,  for 
obtaining  a  special  testimony  of  innocence,  at  the 
expense  of  a  suspension  of  the  laws  of  nature. 

But  a  mode  of  trial,  far  more  suitable  to  the  man- 
ners of  these  martial  barbarians,  was  the  referring 
the  issue  of  a  lawsuit,  or  dispute  of  any  kind,  to  the 
encounter  of  two  champions,  espousing  the  different 
sides  of  the  contest  in  the  lists.  This  regulation 
was  so  well  suited  to  the  genius  and  disposition  of 
the  barbaric  tribes,  that  it  was  soon  generally  intro- 
duced throughout  Europe.  Thus  arose  in  France, 
the  first  germ  of  those  institutions,  called  the  feudal 
system,  the  trial  by  combat,  and  other  peculiarities, 
which  distinguished  the  jurisprudence  of  the  Middle 
Ages. 

We  can  also  trace,  in  the  customs  and  laws  of 
the  Franks,  the  same  rude  marks  of  the  Trial  by 
Jury,  which  seem  originally  to  have  been  formed 
among  all  the  northern  people, — though  it  is  very 
worthy  of  your  notice,  that  the  British  alone  have 
been  able  to  mould  it  into  such  a  form  as  to  adapt  it 
to  a  civilized  state.     The  jurymen  were,  in  the  days 


60  TRIAL    BY    JURY. 


of  the  origin  of  lav/,  called  compurgators.  They 
were  little  more  than  witnesses  brought  forward  to 
give  evidence  in  behalf  of  the  character  of  an  ac- 
cused person.  "  You  have  heard  things  alleged 
against  me,"  said  the  accused,  "  but  I  will  produce 
a  certain  number  of  compurgators,  men  that  are  well 
acquainted  with  me,  and  who  will  pledge  their  oath 
that  I  am  incapable  of  what  has  been  imputed  to 
me." 

By  steps  which  it  is  something  curious  to  trace, 
the  compurgators,  limited  to  a  convenient  number, 
came  to  be  the  judges  in  the  cause,  listening  to  the 
proof  adduced,  whether  in  favour  of  guilt  or  inno- 
cence, and  deciding  by  their  verdict  which  of  the 
two  predominated.  So  that,  from  being  witnesses 
in  behalf  of  the  accused,  the  opinion  of  the  com- 
purgators became  the  means  of  deciding  the  truth 
or  falsehood  of  the  charge  against  him. 

The  high  and  excessive  preponderance  which  the 
Franks  allowed  to  their  own  warlike  habits,  induced 
them  to  claim  such  superiority  over  the  Gallic  or 
Roman  colonists,  that  it  must  have  reduced  the 
whole,  as  it  doubtless  did  a  very  great  part  of  thern^ 
into  the  condition  of  bondsmen  and  Helotes  to  their 
haughty  conquerors,  had  not  the  more  refined,  but 
less  gallant  provincialists,  found  a  retreat  in  the 
church,  by  which  they  were  raised  in  general  opinion 
above  the  condition  of  their  conquerors,  and,  in  their 
character  as  priests,  dealt  forth  to  them,  as  they 
pretended,  the  good  and  evil  things  of  the  next 
world,  in  consideration  of  being  admitted  to  a  large 
share  of  temporal  wealth  and  power  as  a  recompense 
in  the  present. 

As  the  clergy  were  men  of  information,  and  pos- 
sessed what  learning  still  existed  in  Europe,  their 


DEATH    OF    CLOVIS.        '  61 

lot  was  gradually  rendered  better  than  at  first  was 
threatened,  and  the  rude  warriors  were  frequently, 
even  to  their  own  surprise,  obliged  to  submit  to  the 
well-informed  and  wily  priest.  But  when  the  op- 
pressed provincial  of  Roman  or  Gallic  descent 
remained  in  a  lay  condition,  he  was  considered  as 
incalculably  meaner  and  more  worthless  than  the 
descendant  of  the  Frank,  or  freeman,  by  whom  he 
had  been  conquered,  and  the  distinction  betwixt  him 
and  the  warlike  barbarian  remained  long,  and  may 
be  traced  deep  in  the  history  and  manners  of  the 
kingdom  of  France. 

Clovis  having  laid  the  foundation  of  a  mighty  state, 
which  he  extended  by  victory,  and  guarded  by  laAvs, 

died  at  Paris,  which  he  had  fixed  upon  for  the 
611?  capital  of  his  dominions,  in  the  year  of  God  511. 

The  monarchy  which  he  founded,  was  not  in  all 
appearance  likely  to  survive  him  ;  for  upon  his  death, 
it  was  divided  among  his  four  sons  ;  but  it  was  the 
singular  fortune  of  the  French  monarchy  to  be  often 
put  in  danger  of  dismemberment  by  a  division  of 
territory,  from  which  it  repeatedly  escaped,  by  the 
reunion  of  the  detached  portions,  upon  the  first  op- 
portunity. This  spirit  of  individuality  it  perhaps 
received  from  the  impulse  of  the  institutions  of  Clo- 
vis, since  those  people  who  live  under  the  same 
laws  are  predisposed  to  unite  in  the  same  govern- 
ment. 

But  it  is  at  least  unnecessary  to  trace  with  accura- 
cy the  minute  actions,  separations,  and  reunions  of 
territory,  during  the  sway  of  the  kings  of  the  First, 
or  Merovingian  race.  They  were  never  remarkable 
for  family  concord,  and  while  their  empire  was  di- 
vided into  departments,  they  seem  to  have  fallen  into 
absolute  anarchy.     Their  wars  against  their  neifi;h- 

VOL.    I.  6 


&2  SUCCESSORS    OF    CLOVIS. 

hours  and  each  other  were  conducted  with  the  ut- 
most cruelty,  and  their  social  regulations  seem  to 
have  been  broken  through  by  the  general  propensity 
to  insubordination. 

One  of  Clovis'  grandsons,  Theodibert,  King  of 
Metz,  passed  the  Alps  into  Italy ;  and  although 
that  irruption,  like  all  which  the  French  have  hither- 
to directed  against  their  transalpine  neighbours,  was 
m  the  end  nugatory,  yet  he  might  have  revived  it 
with  greater  advantage  at  the  head  of  a  more  nu- 
merous army,  had  he  not  been  slain  at  a  hunting- 
match  by  a  wild  bull,  no  unfit  opponent  to  a  headlong 
conqueror. 

He  left  a  son,  but  Clotaire,  his  uncle,  had  the  ad- 
dress to  seduce  the  allegiance  of  the  people  from 
the  young  heir  of  Metz,  and  prevail  on  them  to  ac- 
knowledge his  own  better  right,  as  nearer  to  the 
blood  of  the  great  Clovis  ;  and  in  the  end  this  prince 
succeeded,  by  one  means  or  other,  in  uniting  once 
more  under  his  own  sway  all  the  dominions  of  that 
great  conqueror  and  legislator.  After  the  death  of 
Clotaire,  the  Frank  empire  was  again  subdivided, 
and  then  again  followed  a  succession  of  wars,  mur- 
ders, and  treacheries,  which  might  be  the  stain  of 
any  kingdom,  if  the  like  could  be  foimd  elsewhere. 

About  this  time,  the  punishment  of  the  kings  of 
the  Merovingian  race  began  to  descend  upon  them 
in  a  manner  which  was  the  natural  fruit  of  their  of- 
fences. These  princes  had  repeatedly  neglected 
their  kingly  duties,  to  plunge  themselves  into  sensu- 
al pleasures,  and  had  used  their  regal  power  for  the 
gratification  of  their  own  selfish  wishes  and  desires, 
instead  of  applying  it  to  the  administration  of  justice 
among  their  subjects,  or  the  maintenance  of  the 
laws. 


DEGENERACY    OF    MEROVINGIAN    KINGS.        63 

By  a  natural  consequence,  their  powers  of  under- 
standing became  limited  to  the  petty  subjects  in 
which  alone  their  own  unworthy  passions  induced 
them  to  take  interest,  while  the  real  exercise  of  au- 
thority, whether  in  time  of  peace  or  war,  devolved 
upon  a  minister  known  by  the  name  of  Maire  du 
Palais,  or,  as  we  would  say,  the  high-steward  of  the 
royal  household,  who  had  the  complete  administra- 
tion in  his  own  hand,  to  the  total  exclusion  of  the 
monarch.  The  kings,  retiring  into  the  interior  of 
their  palace,  led  a  life  so  useless  and  so  totally  with- 
out object,  tiiuL  they  attained  the  name  of  Rois  Fai- 
neans,  or  Idiot  Princes,  while  their  Maires  de  Palais, 
or  ministers,  assumed  the  command  of  the  armies, 
administered  justice,  invaded  some  provinces,  and 
protected  others,  and  made  war  and  peace  at  pleas- 
ure, without  even  consulting  the  wish  or  inclination  of 
the  long-haired  puppet  who  held  the  name  of  king. 

There  are  few  countries  which  have  not  at  some 
time  or  other  been  cursed  by  imbecile  princes,  who 
have  let  their  power  slip  from  their  hands,  and  aban- 
doned themselves  to  the  pleasures  of  luxurious 
indolence,  while  then-  ministers  discharge  the  duties 
of  government.  But  at  no  time  in  Europe  has  the 
surrender  been  so  complete,  so  absolute,  and  so  en- 
during, as  in  the  case  of  the  Merovingian  family. 

Pepin  d'Heristhal,  so  called  from  chiefly  residing 
in  a  castle  of  that  name,  upon  the  Meuse,  was  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  of  those  ministers  whose 
increasing,  and  finally  exclusive  pov/er,  prepared 
the  way  for  the  final  extinction  of  the  race  of  Me- 
rovoeus.  Yet  he  still  observed  decency  towards  his 
supposed  master.  The  unfortunate  monarch  was 
treated  with  such  state  as  fully  satisfied  the  popular 
regard,  which  still   venerated  the  blood  of  Clovis. 


64    DEATH    OF    PEPIN. 

This  resort  of  parade  was  but  of  a  coarse  clumsy 
character,  suitable  to  the  rudeness  of  the  age.  The 
king,  when  exhibited  to  the  people,  was  driven  about 
the  streets,  like  a  show  of  modern  days,  in  a  large 
wagon  drawn  by  oxen,  surrounded  by  guards,  who, 
under  pretence  of  protecting  his  person,  suffered  no 
one  to  approach  him  ;  and  on  public  occasions,  he 
kept  aloof  from  his  people,  and  was  environed  by 
the  great  officers  of  state. 

Thus,  though  an  essential  part  of  the  ceremony, 
the  king  took  as  little  interest  in  it  as  one  of  his  own 
draught  oxen.  Every  thing  approaching  to  real  bu- 
siness was  settled  by  Pepin,  who,  to  the  title  of 
Maire  du  Palais,  expressive  of  the  highest  ministe- 
rial authority,  added  that  of  duke,  or  leader  of  the 
Franks  ;  and  under  these  modest  epithets  disposed 
of  the  full  power  of  the  crov/n,  preserving  in  his  per- 
son a  simplicity  of  manners  and  appearance  which 
astonished  all  strangers,  when  contrasted  with  the 
idle  pomp  which  attended  on  the  king's  person. 

Pepin  d'Heristhal  did  i  ct  escape  the  dangers  at- 
tendant on  the  actual  poscss.lon  of  power.  He  was 
attacked  and  stabbed  at  his  devotions,  by  the  dag- 
ger of  an  emulous  rival.  He  recovered,  however, 
and  his  authority  was  so  easily  transmissible,  that 
he  named  his  son  Theobald  his  successor,  as  Maire 
A.  D.  du  Palais,  though  only  six  years  old,  and  died 
714.  shortly  after  having  done  so. 

But  the  fortunes  of  this  favoured  child,  though 
the  only  legitimate  son  of  Pepin  de  Heristhal,  gave 
way  before  those  of  the  illegitimate  offspring  of  the 
same  minister.  This  was  the  famous  Charles,  call- 
ed Martel,  or  the  Hammerer,  from  the  resistless 
weight  of  the  blows  which  he  discharged  on  his 
enemies  in  battle.    After  various  victories,  improved 


INVASION    OF    THE    SARACENS.  65 

with  talent,  he  found  himself  able  to  compel  the 
king,  Thierry  of  Chelles,  who  then  supported  the 
dignity  of  the  long-haired  and  weak  descendants  of 
Clovis,  to  admit  him  to  the  dignity  of  Maire  du 
Palais,  that  is,  to  the  administration  of  the  kingdom 
of  France.  Most  fortunate  that  kingdom  was,  in 
possessing  his  abilities  at  the  time,  for  an  awful 
crisis  was  approaching,  threatening  more  imminent 
danger  to  France  than  had  menaced  it  since  the 
great  inroad  of  Attila. 

As  in  the  days  of  that  Scythian  monarch,  the 
rising  kingdom  was  threatened  with  the  invasion,  to 
use  the  language  of  Scripture,  of  "  a  nation  from 
far,  whose  tongue  they  did  not  understand,"  and 
who,  in  all  the  pride  of  victory,  came  with  the  Mos- 
lem form  of  faith  in  the  one  hand,  and  the  sword 
in  the  other,  to  propound  to  the  Christians  of  France 
the  choice  of  apostacy  or  death. 

These  were  the  Saracens,  or  descendants  of  the 
Arabian  believers  in  Mahomet,  who,  having  accept- 
ed the  law  of  that  impostor,  had  burst  forth  from 
their  deserts,  their  natural  ferocity  and  courage  en- 
hanced by  their  fanaticism,  to  lay  waste  the  world, 
and  preach  the  Alcoran.    From  the  extremity 
of  Africa,  they  crossed  into  Spain,  and  de-  ^713* 
stroyed,   after  a  brief  struggle,  the  kingdom 
which  the  Goths  had  erected  there,  and  which  they 
found  under  the  government  of  a  profligate  and  un- 
popular monarch :  and  now  their  arms  were  turned 
against  France. 

Aquitaine,  an  independent  dukedom,  a  remnant  of 
what  had  been  the  empire  of  the  Visigoths  in  that 
province,  was  first  exposed  to  their  inroads.  It 
was  governed  by  a  prince  named  Eudo,  who  had 
hitherto  been  opposed  to  Charles  Martel  and  his 
^  6* 


66  DEFEAT    OF    THE    SARACENS. 

family,  but  now  implored  his  assistance  against  the 
common  enemy  of  Christianity. 

As  the  kingdom  of  the  Franks  still  preserved  ex- 
tensive possessions  on  the  east  side  of  the  Rhine, 
the  Maire  dii  Palais  levied  in  Germany  a  large  body 
of  troops,  whose  lofty  size,  massive  strength,  and  fair 
complexion,  were  likely  to  inspire  surprise  and  terror 
into  the  swarthy  and  slender  Arabs. 

Charles  Martel,  having  communicated  his  plans 
to  Eudo,  took  his  measures  for  the  approaching  cam- 
paign, where  a  defeat  might  have  proved  irrepara- 
ble, with  a  degree  of  caution  which  seemed  foreign 
to  his  character.  Permitting,  and  almost  encour- 
aging, the  numerous  bands  of  the  invaders  to  en- 
feeble their  force  by  dispersing  themselves  through 
the  country  in  search  of  plunder,  he  kept  his  own 
army  strongly  concentrated. 

The  Saracens  and  the  Christians  at  length  en- 
countered near  the  city  of  Tours,  and  the  contest, 
which  lasted  several  days,  seemed  to  endure  with 
an  obstinacy  worthy  of  the  object  of  debate,  namely, 
to  what  religion,  and  whose  government,  this 
fair  portion  of  the  European  world  should  in  "^732/ 
future  be  subjected. 

While  the  battle  continued  desultory,  which  was 
the  case  during  the  first  days  of  the  strife,  the  Sara- 
cens, from  the  numbers  and  activity  of  their  light 
squadrons,  obtained  some  advantage  over  the  Chris- 
tians. But  this  was  lost  when  the  light-armed  Arabs 
came  to  mingle  in  close  combat  with  the  warriors  of 
the  north,  who  were  so  much  stronger  in  their  per- 
sons, mounted  on  more  powerful  horses,  and,  above 
all,  accustomed  to  seek  out  and  to  sustain  the  dan- 
gers of  close  encounter. 

Thus  the  battalions  of  the  Saracens  were  already 


DEFEAT    OP    THE    SARACENS. 


67 


hard  pressed,  and  beginning  to  give  ground,  when 
the  cry  of  conflict  was  heard  in  their  rear,  and  the  in- 
fidels discovered  that  their  camp  was  assaulted  by 
Eudo,  at  the  head  of  the  people  of  Aquitaine,  who 
had  concerted  with  Charles  Martel  the  time  and 
manner  of  so  seasonable  an  attack.  The  Saracens 
then  gave  way,  and  were  defeated  with  an  immense 
slaughter  ;  even  if  we  decline  believing  that  no  less 
than  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  infi- 
dels, and  only  fifteen  hundred  Christians,  were  slain 
in  the  battle. 

This  great  victory  decided  the  campaign,  and  the 
event  of  the  war  ;  and  Charles  Martel  pressed  his 
success  vigorously.  The  Saracens  lost  the  footing 
they  had  gained  beyond  the  Pyrenees,  and  Europe 
was  saved  from  the  imminent  risk  it  had  run  of  be- 
ing darkened  by  the  religious  dreams  of  the  African 
prophet.  Charles,  planning  yet  more  impor- 
tant achievements  than  he  had  executed,  was  741/ 
removed  by  death.  The  clergy,  notwithstand- 
ing his  great  services  to  Christianity,  pretended  that, 
his  tomb  being  opened  by  accident,  nothing  was  dis- 
covered but  an  ugly  dragon,  which,  they  boldly 
affirmed,  was  an  explicit  mark  of  his  eternal  reproba- 
tion. The  truth  is,  hfe  had  offended  the  churchmen,  by 
calling  upon  them,  with  an  irresistible  voice,  to  sur- 
render part  of  their  weahh  for  the  service  of  the  state. 

Charles  Martel  was  succeeded  in  his  title  of 
Duke  and  Prince  of  France,  and  guardian  of  its 
long-haired  kings,  by  his  sons,  Carloman  and  Pe- 
pin, whilst  a  third  son,  Gripon,  struggled  hard  to 
obtain  a  share  of  authority.  Carloman  early  re- 
tired from  the  world  into  an  Italian  convent,  and 
Gripon  died,  afler  various  attempts  against  Pepin, 
which  had  been  repeatedly  forgiven. 


63  MEROVINGIAN    KINGS. 


About  this  period,  Pepin,  who  had  been 
^'.q'  hitherto  content  to  govern  in  the  name  of 
Childeric,  the  last  of  the  Merovingian  kings, 
to  whom,  as  to  his  fathers,  the  empty  honours  of 
sovereignty  had  been  paid,  began  at  last  to  tire  of 
the  obstacle  interposed  betwixt  him  and  the  name 
of  king,  while  he  already  possessed  the  power. 
The  important  question,  whether  the  Faineant,  or 
Simpleton,  should  continue  to  possess  the  royal 
title,  rather  than  the  active  and  effective  minister 
who  discharged  the  duties  of  the  situation,  was  re- 
ferred to  Pope  Zacharias,  then  Bishop  of  Rome. 

This  pontiff  had  already  received  the  most  im- 
portant services  from  Pepin,  who  had  protected  him 
against  the  arms  of  the  Lombards,  a  nation  of  bar- 
barians who  had  usurped  the  command  of  Italy. 
He  was,  therefore,  warmly  disposed  to  favour  Pepin 
in  his  present  object,  on  account  of  the  regard  he 
had  for  one  who  had  rendered  him  such  services  ; 
and  at  the  same  time,  by  assuming  the  office  of  ar- 
bitrator in  a  matter  of  such  consequence,  Zacharias 
established  a  precedent  for  the  superb  claims  which 
the  Popes  of  Home  had  already  formed  to  become 
the  general  umpirx3S  of  the  Christian  world.  He 
had  no  hesitation  to  declare  his  opinion,  that,  in  a 
contract  like  that  betwixt  the  kings  of  France  and 
their  people,  if  the  former  should  totally  neglect 
and  retire  from  all  the  duties  of  a  sovereign,  they 
lost  the  right  of  exacting  allegiance  from  their  sub- 
jects. 

Founding  on  the  award  or  sentence  of  the  pon- 
tiff, and  availing  himself  of  the  power  which  was 
entirely  in  his  hands,  Pepin  held  an  assembly  of 
the  Frank  nobles,  and  degraded  Childeric  HI.,  the 
last  of  the  race  of  Merovteus.     His  lonoj  hair  was 


MEROVINGIAN    KINGS-  69 

shaved,  to  prevent  him  from  again  ascending  the 
throne  ;  and  for  the  same  reason  he  was  obhged  to 
take  religious  vows,  and  retire  into  a  monastery. 
Thus  ended  the  First,  or  Merovingian  race  of  the 
kings  of  France,  in  consequence  of  their  total  in- 
dolence and  incapacity.  You  will  hereafter  see, 
that  the  family  of  Pepin  did  not  themselves  profit 
by  the  severe  lesson  imparted  by  their  ancestor  to 
his  predecessors,  and  had  in  their  turn  their  term  of 
decay  and  degradation. 

Pepin,  called  by  his  historians  Bi^ef,  or  the  Short, 
to  distinguish  him  from  his  ancestor  Pepin  d'Heris- 
thal,  was  elevated  upon  a  buckler,  after  the  ancient 
custom  of  the  Franks,  and  declared  king  of  the 
nation,  of  which  he  had  been  long  the  effectual 
ruler.  He  became  the  parent  of  the  Carlovingian, 
or  Second  race  of  French  kings,  who,  like  the  Me- 
rovingians, their  predecessors,  commenced  their 
dynasty  in  glory  and  conquest,  and  declined  into 
degeneracy,  sloth,  and  effeminacy,  until  they  were 
superseded  by  another  royal  family,  as  their  ances- 
tor succeeded  Childeric. 

At  this  period,  what  had  been  the  fragments  of 
the  Roman  empire,  had  been  repeatedly  conquered 
and  divided  by  barbarians  of  different  origin,  but 
yet,  like  the  animal  called  a  polypus,  the  severed 
parts  showed  a  disposition  to  frame  new  combina- 
tions of  government. 

Pepin  and  his  son  Charles,  who  obtained  the 
name  of  Charlemagne,  or  Charles  the  Great,  made 
great  progress  in  erecting  a  new  Western  Empire, 
differing  widely  from  that  which  had  formerly  ex- 
isted under  the  name  and  authority  of  the  Romans, 
both  in  laws  and  institutions,  the  more  recent  of 
which  were  in  a  great  measure  founded  on  those  of 


70  POWER    OF    THE    POPE. 

the  Franks,  which  we  have  since  called  the  Feudal 
System. 

To  give  their  power  the  venerable  aspect  of  re- 
ligion, and  the  better  to  confirm  their  sway,  both 
Pepin  and  Charlemagne  engaged  in  repeated  inva- 
sions of  Italy,  for  the  purpose  of  supporting  the 
Bishops  of  Rome  against  the  oppressions  of  the 
Lombards,  a  people  already  mentioned.  This  na- 
tion was  finally  conquered  and  annihilated  by  Char- 
lemagne. He  was  then  not  unmindful  that  the 
Popes,  as  they  were  called,  had  been  the  first  to 
sanctify  Pepin's  assumption  of  the  crown  by  a  for- 
mal sentence,  and  began  to  study  a  recompense 
which  should  at  once  attest  his  gratitude  and  his  de- 
votion. 

For  this  purpose,  Charlemagne  gave  to  the  Bi- 
shops of  Rome,  who  had  hitherto  been  spiritual 
prelates  only,  a  right  of  temporal  dominion  over 
their  city  and  territories  adjacent,  which  raised 
them  to  the  rank  of  princes  of  this  world. 

Future  Popes  were  discontented  that  their  power 
should  be  supposed  to  rest  on  the  narrow  basis  of 
Charlemagne's  grant,  and  asserted  that  they  pos- 
sessed a  right  of  the  same  tenor  from  Constantine 
the  Great,  not  only  more  ancient,  but  more  ample. 
But  this  pretended  document  is  generally  supposed 
to  have  been  a  forgery.  At  any  rate,  you  must  ob- 
serve, and  remember,  that  it  was  by  the  grant  of 
Charlemagne  that  the  Pope  first  laid  the  foundation 
of  his  power  as  a  temporal  prince,  as  it  was  in  the 
case  of  Pepin  Bref  that  Pope  Zacharias  first  exer- 
cised his  authority  in  disposing,  or  authenticating 
the  disposal,  of  the  crown  of  France,  as  if  he  could 
have  had  any  title  either  to  depose  the  long-haired 


CONQUESTS  OP  CHARLEMAGNE. TV 

Simpleton,  or  to  elevate  the  Moire  du  Palais  to  the 
throne  in  his  room. 

The  Popes  failed  not  to  evince  their  gratitude  to 
Charlemagne,  from  whom  they  had  experienced  so 
many  favours.  In  return  for  having  made  the" 
Bishop  of  Rome  a  temporal  prince,  that  prelate 
solemnly  raised  his  benefactor,  Charles,  to  the  rank 
of  Emperor.  ■} 

The  realms  which  were  united  under  the  sway  of 
this  victorious  prince,  might  well  be  termed  a  re- 
newal of  the  Roman  empire.  As  King  of  the 
Franks,  he  succeeded  to  their  dominions  both  in 
France  and  Italy ;  for  when,  under  the  long-haired 
kings,  that  people  advanced  their  conquests  in 
France,  they  still  retained  their  original  German 
possessions  on  the  east  of  the  Rhine,  which  had 
been  the  land  of  their  fathers,  when  they  first  form- 
ed their  association,  or  league  of  freemen.  But 
Charlemagne  greatly  enlarged  these  German  pos- 
sessions by  overrunning  Saxony.  That  province 
was  inhabited  by  a  fierce  people,  still  heathens ;  and 
it  cost  a  war  of  thirty  years,  and  upwards,  ere  they 
were  conquered  and  converted. 

In  Germany,  Charlemagne  also  defeated  the  re- 
mains of  the  great  nations  of  the  Huns,  or  Tartars, 
and  added  to  his  limits  the  provinces  of  Bohemia 
and  Pannonia,  so  as  to  reach  the  frontiers  of  the 
Eastern,  or  Grecian  Empire.  In  Spain,  he  gained 
considerable  advantages  over  the  Saracens,^  until  he 
extended  his  Christian  power  from  the  line  of  the 
Pyrenees,  the  natural  boundary  between  France 
and  Spain,  to  the  banks  of  the  Ebro,  which  river 
bounded  his  empire.  It  was  especially  in  his  bat- 
tles with  the  Saracens,  that  the  romancers,  who 
made  the  adventures  of  this  great  prince  the  sub- 


72  BATTLE    OF    RONCESVALLES. 


ject  of  their  poems,  found  materials  for  the  numer- 
ous fables  with  which  they  altogether  disguised 
and  obscured  his  exploits. 

The  battle  of  Roncesvalles,  in  which  Charle- 
magne, though  the  chief  of  Christian  and  Euro- 
pean chivalry,  suffered  a  terrible  defeat,  and  lost  a 
great  part  of  his  Paladins,  a  select  band  of  re- 
nowned champions  so  called,  is  supposed  to  have 
taken  place  in  a  pass  of  the  Pyrenees,  descending 
from  these  mountains.  The  rear-guard  of  the 
Franks  was  attacked  by  the  natives  of  Gascony, 
whom  the  Moors  had  bribed  to  assist  on  the  occa- 
sion, and  very  many  slain.  The  celebrated  Or- 
lando, or  Roland,  of  whom  romance  says  so  much, 
and  history  so  little,  fell  on  this  occasion. 

But  although  the  incidents  of  the  reign  of  Char- 
lemagne have  been  made  the  theme  of  many  fables 
or  exaggerations,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
Charles,  by  his  courage,  constant  activity,  and  fre- 
quent successes,  deserved  the  title  of  Great,  He 
■was  a  legislator  as  well  as  a  conqueror,  and  studied 
those  arts  by  which  society  is  cemented  and  bound 
together,  as  well  as  the  rules  of  war,  by  which  its 
frame  is  dissolved  and  burst  asunder. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  compute  the  consequences 
to  the  world  at  large,  if  Charlemagne  could  have 
transmitted  his  great  and  powerful  empire  to  a  sin- 
gle successor,  as  capable  as  himself  of  wielding  the 
government.  But  the  French  diadem,  it  would  seem, 
had  something  benumbing  in  its  effect  upon  th-e 
wearer ;  and  the  desire  among  the  descendants  of 
Charlemagne  to  divide  the  succession,  each  seizing 
upon  independent  portions  of  the  empire,  prevented 
this  great  experiment  from  being  made.  The  Ger- 
man Empire,  So  much  more  feeble  than  that  of  the 


GOVERNMENT  OF  CHARLEMAGNE.       73 

French,  has  subsisted,  as  a  rickety  and  unhealthy 
child  sometimes  survives  its  more  robust  brother. 
Habit,  in  the  one  case,  kept  together  a  people  accus- 
tomed to  one  language  and  the  same  system  of  laws. 
The  Carlovingian  Empire,  on  the  other  hand,  fell  to 
pieces  for  want  of  those  principles  of  cohesion. 

Charlemagne  indeed,  transmitted  great  part  of 
his  dominions  to  his  only  surviving  son  Louis 
previously  created  King  of  Aquitaine,  and  associ- 
ated with  his  father  in  the  empire.  But  in  the 
course  of  two  or  three  generations,  the  various  de- 
scendants of  the  great  Emperor  Charles  made  war 
among  themselves,  and  by  treaties  divided  and  sub- 
divided their  empire  into  fragments.  It  had,  indeed, 
required  all  the  sagacity  and  activity  of  Charles, 
from  whom  they  derived  their  descent,  to  keep  to- 
gether a  large  empire,  consisting  of  unconnected 
kingdoms,  inhabited  in  most  cases  by  distinct  races 
of  people,  Huns,  Alani,  Allemanni,  Lombards,  and 
other  tribes,  who  had  in  their  turn  laid  waste  the 
European  world. 

Charlemagne  endeavoured  to  give  strength  and 
unity  to  this  mass,  by  assigning  to  vassals  of  warhke 
skill,  and  of  distinction  at  his  court,  the  government 
of  different  provinces,  they  always  holding  their  au- 
thority from  and  under  himself  as  superior  of  the 
whole  ;  and  while  a  man  of  such  wisdom  and  power 
was  at  the  head  of  the  empire,  these  governors  were 
compelled  to  do  their  duty,  and  as  but  few  of  them 
had  yet  obtained  hereditary  rights  to  their  offices, 
they  were  liable  to  lose  them  upon  incurring  the 
emperor^s  displeasure.  In  the  assemblies  of  the 
crown  vassals,  Charlemagne  made,  by  the  advice  of 
his  clergy  and  nobles,  those  laws  which  were  called 
Capitulars,  and  which  regulated  his  empire.     In 

VOL.  u  7 


74  ANECDOTE    OF    CHARLEMAGNE. 

these  general  councils  of  the  nation,  there  reigned 
among  the  hardy  vassals,  who  composed  them,  a 
strong  spirit  of  freedom,  mingled  with  a  deference 
to  the  will  of  their  emperor,  which  was  naturally 
founded  on  the  wisdom  and  high  talents  of  this  great 
monarch,  the  extent  of  his  power,  and  the  number 
of  his  conquests. 

He  had  also  a  mode  of  giving  advice  to  those 
around  him  on  such  occasions,  in  which  mirth  was 
joined  with  sober  counsel,  and  a  serious  lesson 
given  under  the  appearance  of  a  jest.  For  example, 
although  Charlemagne  himself  displayed  upon  pub- 
lic occasions  a  considerable  degree  of  rude  magni- 
ficence, yet  it  was  merely  for  the  support  of  his  im- 
perial dignity  in  the  public  eye,  and  not  from  any 
pleasure  which  he  received  from  the  gratification  of 
personal  vanity.  He  dreaded,  therefore,  the  intro- 
duction of  luxury  among  his  subjects.  On  one  oc- 
casion, observing  that  his  nobility  and  vassals  had 
indulged  to  extravagance  in  silk  dresses,  lined  with 
fur,  he  invited  them,  thus  arrayed,  to  a  royal  hunting 
party,  though  the  weather  was  the  depth  of  winter, 
and  the  day  rainy.  He  then,  after  they  had  been 
completely  drenched  in  the  forest,  led  them  back  to 
the  royal  hall,  where  the  heat  of  the  fire  shrivelled 
up  the  wet  furs.  Charles  on  this  gloried  in  his  own 
plain  sheepskin  cloak,  which  had  neither  suffered  by 
the  storm  nor  by  the  heat,  and  exhorted  the  tattered 
crew  by  whom  he  was  surrounded,  to  reserve  silk 
and  furs  for  days  of  ceremony,  and  to  use  in  war 
and  in  the  chase  the  plain  but  serviceable  dress  of 
their  ancestors. 

In  this  anecdote  there  is  more  meaning  than  may 
be  at  first  seen.  In  the  decay  of  the  Roman  empire, 
the  successive  defeats  sustained  by  the  various  war- 


LOUIS    THE    DEBONNAIRE. J75 

I  like  tribes,  which,  seizing  on  the  provinces  of  that 
immense  ruin,  had  become  in  their  turn  a  prey  to 
!  luxury  and  effeminacy,  and  sunk  under  the  sway  of 
i  barbarians,  who  retained  their  wild  courage  and  sim- 
I  pie   manners,  there   was   a  strong  lesson  to  future 
'  conquerors.    From  this,  Charlemagne  was  naturally 
led  to  foresee  the  degeneracy  which  might  sap  the 
foundations  of  his  own  throne,  and  bring  down  upon 
the  Carlovingian  race,  of  which  he  himself  was  the 
founder,  a  fate  similar  to  that  of  the  Merovmgian 
dynasty,  which  his  father,  Pepin  Bref,   had  extm- 
guished.     Neither  were  his  apprehensions  far  re- 
moved from  the  truth.  ,  .      ,  , 

Charles   was   succeeded  m   his   throne    by 
%.f  Louis,  called  the  Debonnaire,  from  his  obli- 
ging  and  gentle  character.     That  character 
was,  however,  greatly  too  soft  for  the  times  in  which 
he  lived  ;  and  the  instructions  with  which  his  father 
had  carefully  imbued  him,  proved  inadequate  to  form 
his  courteous  and  yielding  temper  to  encounter  the 
difficulties  of  his  situation.     His  sense  of  religion 
took  an  unhappy  direction,  and  subjected  him  to  un- 
due influence  on  the  part  of  the  prelates  and  clergy, 
who  abused  his  weakness,  and  usurped  the  royal 
privileges.     The  near  relations  of  the  new  emperor 
conspired  against  his  crown  and  life,  and  he  telt  a 
degree  of  remorse  at  the  necessity  of  punishmg  them 
which  increased  the  indirect  authority  of  the  priest- 
hood, and  induced  him  to  submit  to  the  most  de- 
grading penances.     The  Empress  Judith,  of  the 
House  of  Guelf,   obtained  also  a  power  over  her 
husband's  mind,  which  she  used  to  pernicious  pur- 
poses, persuading  him  to  raise  Charles,  a  son  whom 
she  bore  to  him,  to  a  right  of  succession  in  the  em- 
pire, and  estates  dependent  thereon.     This  incensed 


76  DEATH    OF    LOUIS    THE    DEBONNAIIlE. 

the  sons  whom  Louis  the  Debomiairc  had  by  his 
former  marriage.  Lothaire,  Pepin,  and  Louis,  en- 
gaged in  an  ungrateful  and  unnatural  rebellion 
against  the  good-natured  king. 

He  even  became  prisoner  to  his  insurgent 
^835!*  sons,  and  was  solemnly  degraded  from  his 
royal    dignity,  although   he    was  afterwards 
recalled  to  the  throne.     This  was  only  to  be  dis- 
turbed by  fresh  family  intrigues,  in  which,  embar- 
rassed by  the  solicitations  of  his  young  wife, 
'^g^J*  and  the  pretensions  of  his  adult  sons,  Louis 
the  Debonnaire  died  broken-hearted,  but  left 
no  part  of  his  dominions  to  his  son  Louis,  whom  he 
considered  as  especially  undutiful.     "  Yet  you  must 
forgive  him  as  a  Christian,"  was  the  suggestion  of 
the  Bishop  of  Mentz.     "  I  forgive  him  with  all  my 
heart,"  said  the  dying  Emperor  ;  "  but  let  him  be- 
seech God's  forgiveness  for  bringing  my  gray  hairs 
with  sorrow  to  the  ground."   Thus  died  the  Emperor 
Louis  ie  Debonnaire,  son  of  the  Great  Charles,  on 
whose  tomb  the  adage  might  have  been  inscribed, 
that,  *'  Mere  good  nature  is  only  a  fool." 

Immediately  upon  the  death  of  Louis,  a  general 
war  ensued  among  his  children  ;  and  in  a  dreadful 
battle  which  took  place  near  Fontenoy,  upwards  of 
one  hundred  thousand  men  of  the  Frank  nation  fell 
in  defence  of  the  pretensions  of  the  various  claim- 
ants. It  was  not  till  five  years  afterwards  that  this 
fraternal  discord  was  terminated  by  a  treaty,  by 
which  the  dominions  of  Charlemagne  were  divided 
into  three  parts,  and  shared  among  the  three  bro- 
thers. The  eldest,  Lothaire,  kept  the  title  of  Em- 
peror ;  he  also  retained  all  Italy,  with  the  city  of 
Rome,  and  the  whole  tract  of  country  lying  betwixt 
the    rivers    Rhine,    Rhone,    Saone,    Meuse,   and 


INVASIONS    OF    THE    NORMANS.  ^      77 

Scheldt,  which  was  from  him  called  Lotharingia, 
the  memory  of  which  word  survives  in  the  word 
Lorrain,  still  applied  to  a  part  of  what  were  Lothaire's 
dominions.  Louis  the  Second,  his  brother,  enjoyed 
all  the  dominions  of  Germany  beyond  the  Rhine, 
and  was  thence  called  Louis  the  German.  Charles, 
whose  pretensions  had,  during  his  father's  lifetime, 
given  so  much  occasion  for  disturbance,  was  de- 
clared king  of  the  third  portion  into  which  the 
empire  of  Charlemagne  was  divided.  This  compre- 
hended Aquitaine,  and  all  the  provinces  lying 
between  the  Loire  and  the  Meuse.  Thus  the 
empire  of  Charlemagne  was  once  more  partitioned 
among  his  descendants,  and  their  civil  quarrels  ended 
for  a  season.  But  their  unnatural  and  bloody  war 
had  reduced  them  to  such  a  state  of  weakness,  as 
encouraged  enemies  to  rise  against  them  on  all 
sides. 

The  Saracens,  no  longer  restrained  by  such  ge- 
nerals as  Pepin,  Charles  Martel,  or  Charlemagne, 
again  attempted  to  extend  their  incursions  into  Gaul 
by  land,  into  Italy  by  sea,  and  afforded  no  rest  to  the 
afflicted  provinces  of  Charlemagne's  empire.  A 
still  more  formidable  people  had  taken  up  arms  for 
the  purpose  of  harassing  the  coasts  of  Europe,  and 
at  their  pleasure  filling  their  vessels  with  spoil,  or 
landing  and  acquiring  settlements  by  force.  These 
new  and  powerful  conquerors  were  the  inhabitants 
of  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Denmark,  called  by  the 
ancients  Scandinavia. 

The  fleets  equipped  by  these  people  were  ex- 
tremely numerous,  and  commanded  by  such  chiefs 
as,  either  from  hereditary  descent  or  election,  had 
aspired  to  authority.  Undaunted  courage  was  ne- 
cessary in  the  commander  of  a  people,  who  scarcely 
7* 


78  INVASIONS    OF    THE    NORMANS. 

knew  even  the  name  of  fear,  and  made  it  their  boast 
that  they  signaUzed  their  courage  at  the  expense  of 
all  other  people  on  earth.  As  they  were  very  expert 
sailors,  they,  equipped  numberless  fleets,  which  rav- 
aged all  the  coasts  of  Britain,  France,  and  Spain, 
and  sometimes  even  entered  the  Mediterranean. 
Though  of  various  nations,  yet  behig  all  of  northern 
extraction,  these  pirates  were  known  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  south  under  the  name  of  Noithmen  or 
Normans,  by  which  they  became  so  formidable,  that 
public  prayers  were  put  up  to  Heaven  for  delivery 
from  their  visitations. 

The  people,  too  terrified  to  resist  a  nation  whose 
profession  was  piracy,  their  rehgion  heathenism,  and 
their  element  war,  endeavoured  to  pacify  them  by 
humble  submission  ;  the  kings  attempted  to  bribe 
them  by  money.  But  though  one  squadron  might 
be  thus  induced  to  relinquish  their  purpose  for  a 
season,  the  next  summer  was  sure  to  bring  fresh 
swarms  of  spoilers  ;  and  the  invasions  of  the  Nor- 
mans upon  the  coasts  of  Southern  Europe  make  the 
most  remarkable  feature  of  the  ninth  and  tenth  cen- 
turies. 

To  this  incalculable  evil  the  coasts  of  France 
were  exposed,  while  its  interior  was  ravaged  by  the 
many  evils  which  attend  on  the  inability  and  dis- 
union of  princes.  The  epithets  bestowed  by  his- 
tory on  the  line  of  Charlemagne,  are  taken  from 
personal  imperfections  ;  and  such  nicknames  as  the 
Bald,  the  Simple,  the  Hammerer,  and  the  Gross, 
could  only  be  conferred  on  men  who  were  without 
more  worthy  claims  of  distinction  over  the  rest  of 
mankind.  It  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  these 
last  descendants  of  Charlemagne  possessed  either 
mental  energy  or  virtue,  from  which  a  distinction 


TREACHERY    OF    CHARLES.  79 

could  have  been  assigned  to  them.  In  the  year 
885,  the  disasters  of  France,  from  the  misconduct 
of  their  princes,  and  the  assaults  of  foreign  enemies, 
seemed  to  approach  a  crisis  which  threatened  its 
national  existence. 

At  this  period  Charles,  called  the  Gross,  or  faly 
had,  after  the  death  of  most  of  the  direct  descend- 
ants of  Charlemagne,  obtained  the  title  of  Emperor, 
with  which  he  united  for  a  time  that  of  King  of 
France.  This  prince  had  been  formerly  induced  to 
consent  to  the  settlement  of  a  body  of  Normans  in 
his  province  of  Friezeland,  hoping  their  presence 
and  co-operation  might  protect  the  coast  of  the 
Netherlands  against  visitations  from  their  country- 
men. Finding  that  the  Normans  continued  their 
incursions,  and  that  Godfrey,  the  king  of  the  set- 
tlers, intrigued  against  him  with  Hugo,  a  bastard 
nephew,  he  resolved  by  a  daring  crime  to  redeem 
the  consequences  of  a  political  error. 

Henry,  Duke  of  Saxony,  one  of  the  Emperor's 
high  officers,  by  the  orders  of  his  master,  prevailed 
upon  Godfrey  to  hold  a  friendly  interview  with  him. 
To  this  interview  Duke  Henry  brought  one  Count 
Berard,  whom  Godfrey  had  driven  from  his  estate. 
The  consequence  was  easily  to  be  foreseen.  Be- 
rard upbraided  the  Norman  prince  with  his  wrongs, 
and  in  the  altercation  killed  him  with  his  battle-axe. 
The  Normans  who  attended  their  leader  shared  his 
fate.  The  emperor  having,  in  like  manner,  treason- 
ably obtained  possession  of  his  nephew  Hugo's 
person,  caused  his  eyes  to  be  put  out,  to  render  him 
incapable  of  reigning,  and  shut  him  up  in  the  great 
convent  of  St.  Gal,  in  Switzerland. 

The  death  of  Godfrey  was  followed  by  the  most 
alarming  consequences.     The   furious    Normans, 


80  SIEGE    OF    PARIS 


justly  incensed  at  the  treacherous  murder  of  their 
leader,  assembled  a  fleet  of  seven  hundred  sail, 
small  vessels  certainly,  since  they  came  up  the 
Seine,  which  is  inaccessible  to  large  barks,  but 
having  on  board  a  great  army  of  their  countrymen. 
Their  object  was  to  attack  the  city  of  Paris,  the 
capital  of  France  since  the  time  of  Clovis. 

When  assaulted  by  the  Normans,  the  city 
gg?'  occupied  only  what  is  still  called  the  Isle  of 
Paris,  which  was  surrounded  by  the  Seine  on 
both  sides,  and  accessible  by  two  bridges,  the  ap- 
proaches to  which  were  strongly  fortified  with  tow- 
ers. In  those  times  it  held  a  high  rank  as  a  strong 
fortification,  and  was  accounted  one  of  the  ran^parts 
of  Christendom.  To  protect  and  defend  these  walls 
and  towers,  the  city  was  filled  with  the  best  of  the 
French  warriors,  who  devoted  themselves  to  its  de- 
fence. The  Normans,  who  had  expected  to  carry 
the  place  by  surprise,  were  in  that  respect  disap- 
pointed. 

But  although  their  habits  did  not  render  them 
peculiarly  fit  for  undertaking  regular  sieges,  they  dis- 
embarked their  numerous  bands,  and  pressed  the 
city  both  with  a  blockade,  and  also  by  repeated 
assaults  at  the  sword-point.  Much  courage  was 
shown  in  the  attack  and  defence,  and  all  the  wea- 
pons of  war  then  known  were  called  into  exercise. 
The  bridges  were  defended  by  Eudes,  an  officer  of 
courage  and  talent.  Hugo  the  Abbot,  so  called 
from  his  possessing,  though  a  layman,  and  a  mili- 
tary leader,  the  revenues  of  some  abbeys,  threw 
himself  into  the  city  of  Paris,  of  which  he  was 
count,  and  with  Goselin,  bishop  of  the  diocese,  ar- 
ranged its  defence.     Both  distinguished  themselves 


BY    THE    NORMANS.  81 


by  their  conduct,  and  both  died  in  the  course  of  the 
siege. 

The  Normans  erected  three  moveable  towers,  each 
capable  of  sheltering  sixty  men,  and  mounted  upon 
wheels,  by  which  they  attacked  the  defences  of  the 
bridges.  But  these  towers  were  dashed  to  pieces 
hy  the  stones  hurled  on  them,  or  consumed  by  com- 
bustibles discharged  from  engines  for  that  purpose. 
Battering  rams  were  also  used  by  the  Northmen^ 
with  the  like  indifferent  success,  being  broken  by 
the  weight  of  ctones  hurled  from  the  machines  of 
the  besieged. 

The  historians  of  Paris  still  commemorate  the 
courage  of  twelve  warriors  who  defended  to  the  last 
the  tower  of  the  Little  Chatelet.  Being  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  fortification  by  a  breach  made 
by  the  river,  they  could  receive  no  assistance. 
When  they  perceived  the  desperation  of  their  situa- 
tion, they  gave  liberty  to  the  hawks  which  each  had 
along  with  him,  and  died  in  continuing  an  unavail- 
ing defence,  with  a  resolution  which  would  have 
surprised  any  people  but  the  Normans,  to  whom 
such  deeds  of  desperate  valor  were  familiar. 

But  though  the  defence  of  Paris  was  obstinate, 
the  loss  of  men  and  scarcity  of  provisions  began  to 
be  distressing.  Sigefroy,  the  King  of  the  Normans, 
having  under  him  thirty  thousand  men  of  that  war- 
like nation,  did  not  confine  himself  to  the  operations 
of  the  siege,  but  spread  his  forces  through  France, 
laying  waste  the  country,  and  collecting  supj)lies  for 
his  army.  His  cavalry  and  chariots  of  war  (which 
are  then  lor  the  last  time  mentioned  in  history)  per- 
formed this  duty  so  completely,  that  the  Parisians 
despatched  Eudcs,  who  had  succeeded  Hugo  the 
Abbot  in  the  coniiiiand  of  the  place,  to  the  Emperor 


82  SIEGE    OF    PARIS. 


Charles  the  Gross,  with  an  account  of  their  situa- 
tion, and  suppHcations  for  relief. 

Charles  sent  Henry,  Duke  of  Saxony,  the  perfi- 
dious agent  in  the  murder  of  Godfrey,  to  try  if  his 
courage  could  extinguish  the  flame  which  his  trea- 
chery had  kindled.  But  as  the  Duke  led  but  few 
troops,  he  could  only  throw  himself  into  the  city 
with  provisions  and  reinforcements.  Shortly  after- 
wards, in  an  attempt  to  reconnoitre  the  lines  of  the 
besiegers,  this  leader  fell,  horse  and  man,  into  a 
ditch  covered  with  loose  straw,  laid  upon  shght 
hurdles,  out  of  which  he  could  not  extricate  himself, 
but  was  slain,  and  spoiled  of  his  armour. 

Paris  was  now  more  exposed  than  ever,  for  the 
troops  of  Henry  of  Saxony  disbanded  after  his 
death.  Eudes  was  now,  as  we  have  said,  count  of 
Paris,  and  did  what  man  could  to  animate  the  spirit 
of  resistance.  Another  great  danger  was  indeed 
approaching  the  Parisians.  It  was  the  heat  of 
summer,  and  the  river  Seine  became  so  low  as  to  be 
fordable.  Suddenly,  at  the  hour  of  dinner,  when  the 
besieged  kept  but  slender  watch,  the  Normans  rush- 
ed to  the  river  side  in  one  or  two  bodies,  plunged  in, 
and,  gaining  the  opposite  bank,  began  to  ascend,  by 
ladders,  the  low  walls,  with  which,  trusting  to  the 
usual  depth  of  the  water,  its  margin  had  been  de- 
fended. A  few  gallant  French  champions  rushed 
to  arms,  and  made  good  the  defence,  till  more  came 
up,  and  drove  back  the  besiegers,  chiefly  by  the  aid, 
according  to  the  clergy,  of  the  relics  of  St.  Gene- 
vieve, which  were  displayed  upon  the  rampart. 

The  day  after  these  extreme  dangers,  the  banners 
of  France  appeared  on  the  hill  called  Mont-Martre, 
which  is  hard  by  Paris,  and  the  approach  of  the 
army  of  the  Emperor  diffusing  the  utmost  joy  and 


SIEGE    OF    PARIS    RAISED.  83 

hope  among  the  citizens,  obliged  the  Normans  to 
retire  within  their  own  lines. 

Sigefroy  was  at  bay,  but  he  was  a  lion ;  and 
Charles  the  Gross  deserved  his  name  too  well  to 
undertake  such  a  risk,  as  his  ancestor,  Charlemagne, 
would  have  willingly  ventured  upon.  So  soon  as 
the  Emperor  was  convinced  that  the  Normans  would 
abide  the  event  of  battle,  or  prosecute  their  siege  of 
Paris,  even  in  his  very  sight,  if  he  lay  still  to  await 
the  event,  he  resolved  to  end  the  war  by  treaty, 
which  he  became  unwilling  to  peril  upon  the  event 
of  a  battle. 

By  a  base  composition,  he  agreed  to  purchase 
the  retreat  of  the  Normans  (whom  his  own  treachery 
had  been  the  cause  of  bringing  to  Paris)  for  a  sum 
of  seven  hundred  pounds  of  silver,  and  consented 
that  the  foreigners  should  take  up  their  winter  quar- 
ters in  Burgundy. 

For  this  purpose,  the  Normans  desired  to  ascend 
the  Seine,  and  Charles  would  have  been  wiUing  to 
permit  them  to  pass  under  the  armed  walls  of  Paris, 
which  they  had  so  often  assaulted  in  vain.  But  the 
Parisians,  who  were  conscious  that  they  owed  their 
escape  from  plunder,  conflagration,  and  massacre, 
more  to  their  own  vigilance  and  bravery,  than  to  the 
tardy  aid  of  the  Emperor,  refused  to  permit  the 
Normans  to  approach  so  near  their  ramparts,  that  a 
breach  of  faith  might  have  endangered  their  city. 
Sigefroy  and  his  Normans,  therefore,  had  no  other 
or  convenient  road  to  Burgundy,  than  to  draw  their 
light  galleys  over  land,  and  again  to  launch  them 
in  the  river  Seine,  at  a  certain  distance  above  Paris ; 
and  so  loaded  with  spoil,  they  left  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  metropolis  whose  dignity  they  had  so  long 
insulted. 


8-4  DEPOGiTION    OF    CIIAHLES. 


As  Charles  tlio  Crross  had  made  a  great  effort 
throughout  all  his  dominions,  to  collect  the  army 
which  he  headed  on  this  occasion,  and,  as  very  de* 
cisive  and  triumphant  results  had  been  anticipated, 
his  subjects,  were  equally  mortified  and  incensed  at 
the  paltry  and  dishonourable  treaty,  by  which  he 
bought  what  he  might  have  gained  by  the  sword. 

Domestic  quarrels  with  his  wife,  arising  out  of 
jealousy,  increased  the  pain,  mortification,  and  dis- 
honour of  his  situation.  His  senses  appear  to  have 
given  way  under  these  complicated  distresses.  He 
sunk  into  a  kind  of  idiocy  ;  and  it  was  only  by  the 
charity  of  the  Bishop  of  Mentz,  that  he  was  saved 
from  being  in  want  of  the  most  ordinary  necessaries 
of  life. 

Arnold,  one  of  his  nephews,  was  chosen  emperor 
in  his  place  ;  and  the  terms  in  which  Charles  peti- 
tioned him  for  even  a  bare  subsistence,  seems  to 
show  that  his  mental  disorder  had  lucid  intervals, 
since  he  was  able  to  draw  so  touching  a  picture  of 
the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs. 

"  You,"  says  the  deposed  emperor,  "  are  now  ele- 
vated to  the  state  from  which  I  have  lately  fallen. 
I  pray  the  AU-Powerful  to  confirm  you  in  your  place, 
and  to  grant  you  the  protection  which  He  has  with- 
drawn from  me.  You  are  on  the  throne,  and  I  am 
on  the  dung-hill  which  my  misconduct  has  spread 
for  myself.  The  advantages  of  mind  are  still  at  my 
command;  and  no  king  can  grant,  or  take  these  away. 
But,  for  the  support  necessary  to  life,  I  must  ask  it 
from  others ;  and  from  none  so  naturally  as  from  you, 
one  of  the  race  of  my  fathers,  and  holding  the  place 
from  which  I  have  fallen.  Among  so  numerous  a 
household,  among  so  many  knights  and  gentlemen, 
who  share  your  bounty  daily,  the  simple  necessaries 


EUDES    CnOSEfJ    KING    OF    FRANCE.  CiO 

of  life  bestowed  on  an  old  man  will  be  no  additional 
burden." 

The  new  emperor  was  touched  by  the  petition  of 
his  humbled  predecessor,  and  fixed  upon  him  the 
rent  of  some  villages  for  his  maintenance.     Charles 
the  Gross  did  not  long  survive  his  humiliation, 
dying  (as  some  say)  by  assassination,  shortly  gg^ 
after  he  was  deposed. 


CHAPTER  V. 


We  have  seen  that  Arnold,  a  prince  of  the  blood 
of  Charlemagne,  was  chosen  emperor  on  the  de- 
position of  the  unfortunate  Charles  the  Gross.  In 
that  part  of  the  deposed  monarch's  dominions,  how- 
ever, which  retained  the  name  of  France,  the  in- 
habitants appear  to  have  determined  to  seek  for 
the  virtues  and  talents  of  Charlemagne  elsewhere 
than  in  his  line,  where  these  fair  qualities  seem  to 
have  become  extinct. 

Eudes,  the  valiant  Count  of  Paris,  ^'o  distinguish- 
ed for  his  defence  of  that  town,  and  dear  to  the 
people  both  for  his  own  and  his  father's  virtues,  was 
elevated  to  the  throne  by  the  voice  of  the  people. 
He  showed  himself  worthy  of  their  good  opinion  ; 
for  when  he  proposed  himself  to  the  Emperor  Ar- 
nold, as  a  candidate  for  the  crown  of  France,  he 
declared  himself  willing  to  resign  his  pretensions, 
rather  than  incur  the  guilt  of  causing  a  civil  war. 

The  emperor,  struck  with  the  generosity  of 
Eudes,  at  once  acknowledged  his  title  ;  and  he  en- 

VOL.    I.  8 


DEATH    OF    E-UDES. 


tered  accordingly  upon  the  government  of  France. 
But  either  the  talents  and  courage  of  Eudes,  though 
allowed  to  be  great,  were  inadequate  to  the  purpose 
of  saving  this  distracted  kingdom,  or  at  least  he  had 
no  opportunity  of  exercising  them  to  that  extent. 
The  harassing  and  repeated  encroachments  of  the 
Normans,  and  the  rebellions  among  his  own  sub- 
jects, continued,  although  the  courage  of  Eudes 
repressed  the  one,  and  subdued  the  other.  He 
died,  esteemed  as  a  patriot  monarch  by  the  ggg* 
common  people,  whom  he  protected,  but  de- 
tested by  the  nobility,  whom  he  endeavoured  to  sub- 
ject to  the  strict  dependence  on  the  crown,  from 
which  they  were  in  the  course  of  altogether  freeing 
themselves.  We  shall  hereafter  see,  that  he  was 
an  ancestor  of  the  royal  family  of  Bourbon. 

Eudes  left  a  son,  Arnold  ;  but  he  did  not  succeed 
to  the  crown  of  thorns  worn  by  his  father,  it  being 
occupied  by  Charles,  a  prince  of  the  Carlovingian 
race,  being  the  son  of  one  of  this  degenerate  family, 
called  Louis  the  Stammerer.  This  Charles  want- 
ed neither  courage  nor  good  nature.  Indeed,  it 
seems  to  have  been  an  excess  of  the  last,  joined  to 
a  great  degree  of  indolence,  which  procured  him 
the  historical  distinction  of  The  Simple,  which  he 
does  not  seem  otherwise  to  have  deserved.  Under 
the  reign  of  so  weak  a  prince,  the  disorders  of  the 
state,  which  had  already  risen  to  so  great  a  pitch, 
had  become  general  and  systematic.  To  under- 
stand this,  you  have  only  to  recollect,  that  in  the 
time  of  Charlemagne,  who  held  his  sceptre  with  a 
firm  hand,  governments,  offices,  and  even  landed 
estates,  were  only  granted  for  life  to  such  individuals 
as  the  Emperor  chose  to  distinguish.  At  the  death 
of  the  person  who  held  the  benefice,  as  the  subject 


THE     FEUDAL    SYSTEM.  87 

of  the  grant  was  called,  it  passed  again  to  the  crown, 
and  was  conferred  elsewhere. 

But  in  the  declining  state  of  the  French  monarchy, 
the  great  men  who  were  in  possession  of  offices  or 
lands,  were  naturally  desirous  of  perpetuating  their 
authority  in  their  offices,  and  their  property  in 
estates,  to  their  families.  Hence  arose,  at  first  in  a 
few  instances,  and  at  length  from  general  custom, 
the  formidable  novelty,  that  the  vassal  had  a  heredi- 
tary interest  in  the  fief,  and  that,  far  from  falling,  on 
the  death  of  the  original  holder,  it  was  transmitted 
to  his  eldest  son  as  a  matter  of  right,  he  being  of 
course  obliged  to  perform  the  same  services  to 
which  his  ancestor  had  subjected  himself  by  accept- 
ing the  benefice  in  the  first  instance. 

Thus  the  nobles  of  the  first  rank,  who  now  took 
the  title  indifferently  of  Duke,  Marquis,  Count,  or 
the  like,  were  no  longer  the  mere  delegates  of  the 
sovereign  who  had  conferred  the  gift  upon  their  pre- 
decessors, but  in  all  respects,  except  the  title,  form- 
ed an  order  of  petty  kings,  distributing  justice  in 
their  own  right,  coining  money,  making  laws  and 
ordinances,  and,  except  the  deference  and  allegiance 
which  they  owed  to  their  superior,  the  monarch  who 
originally  conferred  the  fief,  acting  as  independent 
princes,  each  in  his  own  province. 

In  the  courts  of  these  petty  princes  or  great 
vassals  of  the  crown,  the  same  form  of  feudal  grants 
took  place.  The  Duke,  Count,  or  Marquis,  assign- 
ed offices,  connected  with  his  own  little  court,  and 
distributed  lands  to  nobles  of  lower  rank,  on  condi- 
tion of  obtaining  their  assistance  in  war  and  their 
counsel  in  peace,  being  the  services  which  the  great 
vassal  himself  rendered  to  the  sovereign. 

These  tenures  descended  still  lower.     Thus,  ii 


88  THE    FEUDAL    SYSTEMc 

the  great  vassal  had  his  officers  of  the  household, 
and  his  soldiers,  who  gave  him  their  service,  and  that 
of  their  followers  in  war,  each  of  these  persons  had 
their  own  household  arranged  on  the  same  footing, 
differing  only  as  their  vassals  and  dependants  were 
fewer  in  number,  and  less  liberally  recompensed. 
The  system  descended  so  low,  that  even  ptivate 
gentlemen  had  their  domestic  establishments  upon 
a  scale  resembling  that  of  the  sovereign  himself; 
and  though  he  had  only  the  rank  of  a  vassal,  while 
rendering  his  attendance  on  the  court  of  the  lord 
from  whom  he  held  his  fief,  each  was,  notwithstand- 
ing, himself  a  prince  when  seated  in  his  own  tower, 
and  surrounded  by  his  own  dependants,  bearing  the 
pompous  epithets  of  chief  steward,  chief  butler,  or 
gd'and  huntsman,  and  distinguished  as  such  by  these 
duties  at  home  and  abroad. 

When  this  system  of  feudal  dependence,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest  rank  of  society,  began  to  as- 
sume the  form  of  fixed  and  assured  law,  it  produced 
an  influence  upon  government  and  manners,  which 
was,  on  several  accounts,  extremely  advantageous, 
and  on  others  very  much  the  reverse. 

In  the  first  point  of  view,  it  gave  a  high  tone  of  in- 
dependence and  courage  to  the  nation,  thus  divided 
into  vassals  and  superiors,  each,  from  the  private 
gentleman  to  the  sovereign  upon  the  throne,  render- 
ing the  same  or  similar  service  to  his  superior,  which 
he  received  from  his  vassals,  all  jealous  of  their  pri- 
vileges as  freemen,  tenaciously  fond  of  their  personal 
rights,  and  equally  so  of  their  military  reputation. 

Each  vassal  paid  to  his  superior  that  service  and 
homage  which  his  fief,  in  its  pecuhav  nature,  requir- 
ed ;  but  that  being  once  discharged,  his  obligation 
was  ended,  and  he  was  as  free  a  man  a,'3  his  superior 


LEODES    AND    SERFS. 


89 


himself.  This  proud  reflection  seemed  the  more 
justly  founded,  that  those  vassals  who  had  divided 
and  subdivided  among  them  the  province  of  Gaul, 
were  almost  all  descended  from  the  Franks,  Bur- 
gundians,  and  other  tribes  of  the  barbarous  but  free 
conquerors  of  the  Roman  state,  equal,  therefore, 
from  the  beginning,  as  natives  of  the  same  tribe 
of  freemen,  who  acknowledged  no  distinction. 
You  will  recollect  that  these  conquerors  seized 
upon  two-thirds  of  the  land,  and  apportioned  it 
among  themselves,  assuming  the  title  of  Leodes, 
signifying  freemen.  i    .        . 

The  Roman  colonists,  on  the  other  hand,  whom 
the  barbarians  had  subdued,  were  permitted  to  cul- 
tivate the  remaining  third,  which  was  left  by  the  con- 
querors for  their  subsistence.  It  was  by  their  hands 
that  almost  all  the  agriculture  of  the  country  was  car- 
ried on,  which  necessary,  though  irksome  task,  the 
Leodes  left  to  the  charge  of  the  serfs^  or  bondsmen, 
for  to  that  station  were  the  unhappy  Romans  reduced, 
and  by  that  disgraceful  epithet  were  they  known.  Not 
only  did  their  labours  supply  the  country  with  corn, 
but  such  tribute  as  was  levied  in  the  province,  was 
exclusively  paid  by  this  degraded  class  of  the  nation. 

The  freeman  hunted,  fished,  or  went  to  war,  at 
the  call  of  his  superior,  or  his  own  inchnation  ;  but 
he  paid  no  tax,  and  put  his  hand  to  no  labour.  The 
pasturages  were  stocked  with  cattle,  often  the  spoils 
of  war,  which  were  kept  either  by  serfs  or  domestic 
slaves  ;  for  both  kinds  of  servitude  were  knov/n  to 
the  French,  and  the  laws  of  war  placed  the  captive 
at  the  pleasure  of  the  conqueror,  unless  he  was 
able  to  purchase  his  freedom  by  a  ransom.  It 
naturally  followed,  that  the  men  who  thus  enjoyed 
independence,  and  escaped  every  species  of  toil 
8* 


90  INDEPENDENCE    OF    THE 

except  that  of  Avarfare,  -were  a  bold  and  high- 
spirited  race,  and  that  sensible  of  the  value  of  their 
freedom,  accustomed  to  connect  their  liberty  with 
the  feats  of  their  ancestors,  they  were  alive  to  every 
encroachment  upon  it,  and  always  ready  to  vindicate 
what  they  held  so  dear,  from  the  slightest  attack  of 
domestic  oppression. 

Their  nobles  and  gentry  grew  up  a  fine  race,  and 
were  improved  by  such  Normans  as  settled  among 
them  ;  and  you  will  presently  see  that  the  numbers 
of  these  were  very  great.  They  were  ready  warriors, 
generous,  and  true  to  their  word,  and  in  so  far  the 
character  of  the  French  nation  was  highly  improved 
by  the  introduction  of  the  feudal  system. 

In  other  respects,  the  independence  of  the  crown 
vassals  on  the  king,  and  that  of  the  barons  of  the 
second  order  upon  the  crown  vassals,  an  indepen- 
dence which  descended  to  the  lowest  link  of  the 
feudal  chain,  formed  but  a  feeble  system  of  govern- 
ment, and  gave  an  insecurity  to  the  ties  which  bound 
together  the  national  compact.  The  whole  king- 
dom, instead  of  a  country  havmg  one  interest  and 
one  government,  seemed  at  first  sight  divided  among 
the  great  vassals  of  the  cro\ra,  none  of  whom  was 
disposed  to  admit  the  king  to  possess  or  exercise 
more  power  over  him  than  the  monarch  was  strictly 
entitled  to  by  the  rules  of  the  feudal  tenure. 

This  sphit  of  resistance  was  the  more  awake,  as 
these  great  feudatories  considered  the  diminution  of 
the  king's  influence  as  the  ready  mode  of  increasing 
their  own,  and  many  probably  looked  forward  to  the 
time  when  each  grand  vassal  might  altogether  shake 
himself  free  from  the  feudal  yoke,  and  possess  his 
dukedom  or  county  in  his  own  right,  as  an  indepen- 
dent prince. 


GREAT    VASSALS.  91 

Upon  looking  at  the  condition  of  the  crown  vas- 
sals more  closely,  it  might  be  observed,  that  the 
same  principle  of  disunion  which  induced  them  to 
encroach  upon  the  rightful  claims  of  the  crown  for 
obedience  and  support,  was  undermining  their  own, 
and  that  their  vassals  and  dependants  were  frequent- 
ly disposed  to  refuse  that  service  to  them  which  they 
hesitated  to  grant  to  the  crown.  It  was  the  result 
of  both  circumstances,  that  the  unanimous  power 
of  the  nation  could  not  be  easily  exerted,  while  it 
was  divided  and  torn  asunder  by  so  many  subjects 
of  dispute  and  hostility.  To  this  disunion  was  also 
to  be  attributed  the  oppressive  rights  assumed  by  the 
feudal  lords  within  their  own  territories,  where  the 
barons  of  inferior  rank,  without  even  the  pretence 
of  right  or  justice,  oppressed  and  ruined  the  unhap- 
py serfs,  and  robbed,  spoiled,  and  murdered  without 
any  check,  save  their  own  haughty  pleasure. 

It  could  not  be  said,  as  an  excuse  for  these 
abuses,  that  there  was  no  king  in  France,  buf  it 
might  have  been  well  urged,  that  the  crown,  besides 
being  placed  on  the  head  of  the  simple  Charles, 
was  divested  in  a  great  measure  of  that  authority 
which  prevents  crimes,  and  the  power  which  inflicts 
upon  them  condign  punishment. 

Amid  these  internal  disorders  of  the  French,  the 
repeated  invasions  of  the  Northmen  assumed  an 
aspect  so  formidable,  that  it  was  plain  they  were  not 
made  with  the  mere  purpose  of  spoil,  but  in  order 
to  establish  a  lasting  conquest  either  of  the  whole 
kingdom,  or  of  some  of  its  principal  provinces. 

A  large  army  and  fleet  of  this  brave  and  lawless 
people  appeared  at  the  mouth  of  the  Seine,  formi- 
dable from  their  unwonted  degree  of  discipline,  and 
the  respect  and  obedience  which  they  paid  to  their 


92 INVASION    OF    ROLLO. 

prince.  This  was  Hrolfe,  or  Rollo.  By  birth  he 
was  son  of  the  King  of  Denmark,  distinguished  by 
his  conduct  in  many  expeditions  both  in  Britain  and 
France,  and  having  in  his  personal  character  a  re- 
spect for  truth  and  iidehty  to  his  word,  which  was  not 
a  usual  characteristic  of  his  countrymen.  One 
large  body  of  his  forces  sailed  up  the  river  Loire, 
and  destroyed  the  cathedral  of  St.  Martin  of  Tours, 
the  same  patron  of  whose  rigid  exactions  Clovis  for- 
merly complained,  and  whose  shrine  had  been  en- 
riched in  proportion  to  his  popularity.  Another 
body,  commanded  by  Rollo  in  person,  ascended  the 
Seine,  took  the  city  of  Rouen,  and  treating  the  in- 
habitants with  moderation,  fixed  their  head-quarters 
there,  and  deposited  within  its  walls  the  spoil  which 
they  accumulated  from  all  parts  of  the  province  of 
Neustria,  of  which  Rouen  is  the  capital. 

Charles  the  Simple,  though  courageous  enough 
in  his  person,  was,  according  to  the  indolent  habits 
of  his  race,  desirous  of  putting  a  stop  to  this  peril 
by  composition  rather  than  by  battle.  He  made  a 
truce  with  the  Norman  prince,  in  order,  as  he  pre- 
tended, to  give  time  for  a  more  solid  peace.  But 
by  the  advice  of  Richard,  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
Charles  broke  the  truce  he  had  himself  made,  and 
engaged  in  hostilities.  Rollo  was  defeated  near 
Chartres,  owing,  it  is  said,  to  the  excitation  given  to 
the  French  by  the  appearance  of  the  Bishop  of 
Chartres,  in  front  of  the  battle,  in  his  episcopal 
robes,  and  holding  in  his  hand  the  supposed  veil  of 
the  Virgin. 

After  the  battle,  the  victors  drew  a  circimivalla- . 
tion  around  a  hill  to  which  Rollo  had  retreated  with 
the  remainder  of  his  army.     But  the  Norman  was 
not  without  his  resource.     He  alarmed  the  caijip  of 


ROLLO  MADE  DUKE  OF  NORMANDY.     93 

the  French  by  a  charge  blown  near  to  their  bulwarks 
at  the  dead  of  flight,  and  while  the  besiegers  were 
running  about  in  terror  and  disorder,  the  Norman 
prince  cut  his  way  through  them,  and  his  army  be- 
ing greatly  reinforced,  soon  found  the  means  of 
making  more  merciless  havoc  than  he  had  done  be- 
fore the  truce. 

Charles  was  now  obliged  to  resume  his  negotia- 
tions with  the  Norman  prince,  \vith  more  good  faith 
than  formerly.  Using  the  Bishop  as  an  ambassa- 
dor, he  suggested  to  Rollo,  that  if  he  consented  to 
embrace  the  Christian  religion,  and  assume  the 
character  of  a  loyal  vassal,  the  king  was  willing  to 
confer  upon  him  as  a  fief  the  fertile  province  hither- 
to called  Neustria.  This  princely  district  Charles 
proposed  as  the  dowery  of  his  daughter  Gisele,  who 
was  to  become  the  wife  of  Rollo,  although  she  was 
only  ten  or  twelve  years  old,  and  her  redoubted 
bridegroom  fifty  years  at  least, 

Rollo  accepted  of  these  favourable  terms,  with 
the  sole  addition,  that  as  Neustria,  the  name  of 
which  he  changed  to  Normandy,  was  exhausted  by 
his  previous  ravages,  he  rtipulated  that  part  of  Bre- 
tagne,  or  Brittany,  should  be  assigned  to  him  in  the 
interim,  for  the  more  easy  support  of  his  army. 
Rollo  adopted  the  Christian  faith  with  sufficient  de- 
cency, and  at  the  font  exchanged  the  heathen  name 
of  Rollo  for  that  of  Robert.  But  when  the  new- 
Duke  was  to  receive  investiture  of  Normandy  from 
Charles,  his  pride  was  startled  at  the  form,  which 
required  him,  in  acknowledgment  of  the  favour  be- 
stowed on  him,  to  kneel  to  his  liege  lord,  and  kiss 
his  foot.  "  My  knee  shall  never  bend  to  mortal," 
said  the  haughty  Norman  ;   "  and  I  will  be,  on  no 


94  -SETTLEMENT    OF    NORMANDY 

account,  persuaded  to  kiss  the  foot  of  any  one  what- 
ever." 

The  French  counsellors  present  suggested  that 
this  difficulty  might  be  surmounted  by  Rollo,  or  Ro- 
bert, appointing  a  deputy  to  kiss,  in  his  name,  the 
foot  of  Charles.  Accordingly,  the  Duke  command- 
ed a  common  soldier  to  perform  the  ceremony  in 
his  stead.  The  man  showed  the  small  value  he  at- 
tached to  the  ceremony,  by  the  careless  and  disre- 
spectful manner  in  which  he  performed  it.  Instead 
of  kneeling  to  salute  the  royal  foot,  he  caught  it  up 
and  performed  the  ceremony  by  lifting  it  to  his 
mouth.  In  this  awkward  operation,  the  rude  Nor- 
man well  nigh  overturned  the  simple  king,  throne  and 
all,  and  exposed  him  to  the  laughter  of  all  around. 

The  essentials  of  the  treaty  were  more  satisfac- 
torily settled.  Rollo  entered  upon  his  new  domi- 
nions, and  governed  them  with  the  strictest  justice, 
becoming,  from  a  fierce  and  lawless  pirate,  a  wise 
and  beneficent  prince.  He  was  so  severe  in  the 
execution  of  robbers,  the  multitude  of  whom  was 
one  of  the  great  abuses  of  his  time,  that  at  length, 
it  is  said,  rings  of  gold  w^ere  exposed  publicly  in 
waste  places,  without  incurring  the  least  risk  that 
any  one  should  take  them  away. 

The  very  exclamation  of  the  name  of  Raoul,  or 
Rollo,*  was,  long  after  the  good  prince's  death,  ut- 
tered by  persons  who  were  sufl'ering  what  they  con- 
ceived to  be  injustice.  Hence  the  frequent  repeti- 
tion of  "  Haro!  and  Well  away  !"  as  expressions  of 

*  Pronounced  Haro,  which  shows,  that  the  strict  course  of 
justice  for  which  this  Duke  of  Normandy  was  famous,  had 
commenced  before  he  had  adopted  the  Christian  name  of 
Robert.  Haro  is  the  word  still  used  in  the  courts  of  Jersey 
and  Guernsey,  when  a  iudsment  is  complained  of,  and  an 
appeal  entered. 


AS    AN    INDEPENDENT    STATE.  95 

sorrow,  in  our  ancient  authors.  The  Norman  fol- 
lowers of  Rollo  were  also  converted  to  the  Christian 
creed,  and  reclaimed  from  the  errors  of  paganism. 
They  abandoned  the  bloody  ritual  of  their  own  an- 
cient faith,  without  losing  any  part  of  the  dauntless 
courage  and  contempt  of  death  which  it  inspired. 
They  also  received  readily  such  ideas  of  honour  as 
the  French  began  to  entertain,  which  afterwards  led 
to  the  system  of  chivalry;  and  under. that  process 
we  shall  soon  see  the  Normans  distinguished  for 
the  eagerness  with  which  they  tempered  their  cou- 
rage and  contempt  of  danger  with  the  high-minded 
metaphysics  of  Love  and  Honour.  This  is  easily 
understood,  if  we  consider,  that  the  hardest  pebbles 
are  most  fit  to  receive  the  highest  polish. 

The  state  of  Normandy,  thus  established  in  inde- 
pendence, save  the  uncertain  allegiance  of  its  Duke 
being  a  crown  vassal  to  the  sovereign  of  France, 
was  destined,  a  century  afterwards,  to  give  a  dynasty 
of  kings  to  England,  and  has  been  rendered  illus- 
trious by  producing  as  many  men  of  courage  and 
gallantry  as  have  ever  adorned  any  country  of  the 
world. 

The  unfortunate  Charles  the  Simple  was  so  sunk 
in  indolence,  that  he  added  to  his  other  weaknesses 
that  of  throwing  himself  and  his  affairs  into  the 
hands  of  a  gentleman  named  Haganon,  of  moderate 
birth,  and  as  moderate  talents.  To  this  obscure 
and  unworthy  favourite  Charles  was  so  obviously 
and  extravagantly  attached,  that  the  Duke  of  Saxony 
said,  "  Surely  these  men  are  so  much  united,  that 
by  and  by  they  will  be  equal  in  condition,  either  by 
Haganon  becoming  a  king,  hke  Charles,  or  Charles 
a  private  gentleman,  like  Haganon." 

This  unworthy  attachment  was  the  source  of  va- 


96  DEATH    Oi-    CHARLES    THE    SIMPLE, 

rious  rebellion?,  in  repressing  which,  Charles  showed 
himself  to  advantage,  as  a  man  of  action,  killing 
with  his  ow^n  hand  one  of  his  most  formidable  com- 
petitors. But  in  counsel  he  was  as  rash  and  impo- 
litic as  ever.  His  reign  was  disturbed,  not  only  by 
the  invasion  of  bands  of  Normans,  whom  the  Duke 
of  Normandy's  success  had  dravrn  to  the  shores  of 
France  by  shoals,  but  that  of  Hungarians,  or  Bul- 
garians, a  people  descended  from  the  ancient  Huns. 
These  barbarians  were  guilty  of  great  cruelty,  leav- 
ing a  terrible  impression  upon  the  minds  of  the 
French,  which  is  said  to  survive  in  the  nursery  tales 
concerning  the  cannibals  called  Ogres,  the  origin  of 
which  is  to  be  found  in  the  atrocities  of  the  Bulga- 
rians, or  Huns,  of  the  ninth  and  tenth  centuries. 

At  length,  amidst  these  disasters,  the  simple  King 
Charles  intrusted  himself  in  the  power  of  a  treach- 
erous subject,  Hebert,  Count  of  Yermandois,  one  of 
his  overgrown!  vassals,  who,  after  a  show  of  great 
respect,  seized  upon  his  person,  and  imprisoned  him 
in  the  Castle  of  Peronne.  Here  he  is  at  length 
supposed  to  have  been  murdered. 

Rodolph  succeeded  Charles,  who,  as  regards  the 
line  of  Charlemagne,  may  be  termed  a  usurper,  for 
he  w^as  not  descended  from  that  emperor.     He  filled 
the  throne  for  fourteen  years  of  perpetual  war    , 
and  tumult,  which  his  talents,  though  consi-  ^ggg* 
derable,  were  unequal  to  subdue  effectually. 

Charles  the  Simple  had  left  a  child,  Louis  by 
name,  who,  upon  his  fathers  death,  had  been  trans- 
ported to  England  by  his  mother,  Ogene,  or  Thea- 
gine,  who  was  an  English  woman,  bom  soon  after 
Rodolph's  death.  He  received  encouragement  fo 
return  and  assume  the  fhrone  of  Fiance,  when  he 
became  distinguished  bv  the  title  of  Louis  d'Outre- 


DESCENT    OF    HUGO,  97 

iner,  or  from  beyond  sea.     Like  his  predecessors,  he 

was   involved  in  the  quarrels  and  intrigues  of  the 

Dukes  and  Counts,  who  were  too  mighty  subjects  to 

endure  the  supremacy  of  the  Crown,  and  whom  he  ^ 

could  only  rule  by   the  policy  of  stirring  up   one 

against  the  other.     Louis  was  called  from  the  scene 

of  dissension  by  his  death,  occasioned  by  his 

95^"  horse  falling  while  at  full  speed,  in  pursuit  of 

a  wolf. 

It  was  now  supposed  that  the  Crown,  or  at  least 
great  part  of  its  remaining  authority,  would  be  seiz- 
ed on  by  Hugo,  the  Duke  of  France,  called  the 
Great,  who  had  been  one  of  those  potent  vassals 
with  whom  Louis  d'Outremer  had  been  repeatedly 
at  war  during  his  life.  It  is  certain  that  this  peer, 
then  the  most  powerful  in  France,  was  descended 
from  Robert,  called  the  Strong,  who  flourished  in 
the  ninth  century. 

Flattery,  for  the  gratification  of  his  descendants, 
has  invested  several  genealogies  for  this  person,  one 
of  which  connects  him  with  Charlemagne,  though 
by  an  illegitimate  branch.  It  is  more  certain  that 
his  successors  rose  to  great  consequence.  His 
eldest  son,  Eudes,  distinguished  at  the  siege  of 
Paris,  was  afterwards  chosen  King  of  Aquitaine, 
and  was  proclaimed  King  of  Western  France,  in 
888  ;  but  his  line  was  extinguished  in  the  person  of 
his  son  Rodolph.  The  second  son  of  Robert  the 
Strong  was  that  Robert  IL,  Duke  of  France,  who 
made  war  against  Charles  the  Simple,  and  whom 
that  monarch  is  said  to  have  slain  with  his  own 
hand.' 

The  grandson  of  Robert  I.,  and  son  of  Robert  II., 
was  this  Hugo,  called  the  Great,  Duke  of  France 
and  -Burgundy,  and  Count  of  Paris.     He  had  vari- 

YOL.   I.  9 


98  TREACHERY    OF    LOTHAIRE. 

ous  disputes  with  Louis  the  Ultramarine,  so  that,  as 
we  have  hinted,  it  was  expected  by  many  that  at  his 
death  the  Duke  would  have  seized  on  the  crown, 
which  had  been  worn  by  his  uncle  Eudes.  But 
Duke  Hugo,  as  was  prophesied  of  Banquo,  was 
destined,  though  he  never  wore  the  crown  himself, 
to  be  father  of  the  powerful  family  of  Bourbon,  so 
distinguished  in  past  ages  for  their  power,  and  in  our 
own  for  their  misfortunes. 

The  Duke  Hugo,  of  whom  we  have  spoken,  fol- 
lowed the  dictates  of  principle  rather  than  ambition. 
He  took  up  the  cause  of  Louis'  son  Lothaire,  a 
boy  of  about  fourteen  years  old,  and  conducted  him 
to  Rheims,  where  he  directed  the  ceremony  of  his 
coronation,  and  afterwards  deported  himself  in  every 
respect  as  a  dutiful  subject.  He  defeated  the  Count 
of  Poitiers  in  a  decisive  battle,  and  gave  a  sharp  les- 
son of  submission  to  the  great  vassals  who  might  be 
disposed  to  rebel  against  the  king. 

In  the  subsequent  year  he  died,  leaving  behind 
him  four  sons.  The  eldest,  Hugo,  was  distinguish- 
ed from  his  father  of  the  same  name,  by  the  sur- 
name of  Capet,  (or  Caput,)  but  whether  from  the 
unusual  size  of  his  head,  or  the  extent  of  his  powers 
of  understanding,  is  somewhat  uncertain.  The 
brothers  of  Hugo  Capet  were  Otho,  Eudes,  and 
Henry,  who  were  successively  Dukes  of  Burgundy. 
For  Hugo  himself,  fate  reserved  a  fairer  diadem. 

Lothaire,  sensible  of  the  father's  merits,  received 
the  sons  into  favour,  and  acknowledged  them  as  suc- 
cessors in  the  fiefs  of  the  great  Hugo.  But  he  em- 
broiled himself  in  a  quarrel  vvith  Duke  Richard,  of 
Normandy,  the  second  successor  of  Rollo,  or  Ro- 
bert I.,  in  that  almost  independent  principality  :  and, 
by  advice  of  Theobald,  Count  of  Chartres,  called 


WAR    WITH    GERMANY.  99 

the  Trickster,  endeavoured  to  overreach  him  by  in- 
viting him  to  an  interview. 

Duke  Richard  complied  with  the  invitation  with- 
out hesitation,  and  set  out  on  his  journey  to  the  place 
appointed.  He  was  met  by  two  knights  of  the 
Count  of  Chartres,  who,  pitying  his  unsuspicious 
loyalty,  gave  him  indirect  notice  of  the  design  against 
his  person,  by  asking  him,  whether  he  was  tired  of 
his  ducal  coronet,  and  had  a  mind  to  become  a  shep- 
herd. Duke  Richard,  taking  the  hint  which  this 
question  coiivcyed,  rewarded  the  knights  who  gave 
it,  bestowing  on  the  one  a  gold  chain  which  he  wore, 
and  on  the  other  his  sword.  He  instantly  returned 
to  Rouen,  and  took  up  arms  against  the  treacherous 
king,  obtaining  such  succours  from  his  original  coun- 
try of  Denmark,  as  soon  brought  Lothaire  to  request 
a  peace,  which  was  made  accordingly. 

Another  vrar  broke  out  between  Lothaire,  King  of 
France,  and  Otho,  Emperor  of  Germany.  Lothaire 
showed,  in  the  commencement,  both  spirit  and  acti- 
vity. He  marched  with  such  rapidity  upon  Aix-  a.  r>. 
la-Chapelle,  that  he  had  nearly  made  the  Em-  9'^8. 
peror  prisoner,  who  fled,  leaving  his  dinner  ready  pre- 
pared and  placed  on  the  table.  Otho,  to  revenge 
this  insult,  invaded  France  with  sixty  thousand  men, 
and  advanced  to  the  gates  of  Paris,  sending  word 
to  Hugh  Capet,  count  of  the  city,  that  he  would 
cause  a  mass  to  be  sung  on  the  summit  of  Mount 
Martre,  by  so  many  voices,  that  the  count  should 
hear  the  sound  in  the  Isle  of  Paris. 

The  King  of  France  and  Hugo  Capet  revenged 
this  insult  by  a  rapid  movement  to  the  relief  of  Paris, 
and  defeated  the  Germans  with  very  great  slaugh- 
ter. A  nephew  of  Otho,  who  had  sworn  (for  oaths  of 
chivalry  were  then  becoming  fashionable)  to  strike 


100  DEATH    OF    LOUIS. 

his  lance  into  the  gate  of  Paris,  was  slain  in  the  bat- 
tle. But  Lothaire  lost  the  fruit  of  this  victory  by 
acceding  to  a  peace,  which  disappointed  the  hopes 
of  his  subjects,  and  especially  to  the  army,  elated  by 
victory.  Conscious  of  a  loss  of  reputation,  he  en- 
deavoured to  strengthen  himself  in  the  love  and  af- 
fection of  his  subjects,  by  raising  to  be  the  partner 
of  his  throne,  his  son  Louis,  known  by  the  discredit- 
able title  of  the  Faineant,  or  Foolish.  But  Lothaire 
was  not  permitted  to  receive  any  benefit,-  if  such 
could  accrue,  from  such  a  stroke  of  policy,'  as  he 
died  at  Rheims  immediately  afterwa^rds,  and  •'^-  ^• 
not  without  the  suspicion  of  poison. 

Louis,  called  the  Faineant,  did  nothing  which 
could  be  termed  inconsistent  with  his  name.  He 
quarrelled  with  the  queen,  and  v/ell  nigh  engaged  in 
a  new  war  with  Germany.  But  before  he  had  reign- 
ed fourteen  months,  he  died  under  the  same  suspi- 
cion of  poison  which  attached  to  his  father's  demise. 
This  weak  and  unhappy  prince  was  the  last  of  the 
Carlovingian  race,  vvhich  had  occupied  the  throne  of 
France  for  upwards  of  two  hundred  and  thirty  years. 


101 


CHAPTER  VI. 


You  must  keep  in  memory,  that  since  the  insti- 
tution of  the  government  of  France  as  a  monarchy, 
two  races  of  kings  had  existed.  The  long-haired 
monarchs,  or  kings  of  the  Merovingian  race,  who 
sank  under  the  rising  fortunes  of  Pepin  and  Char- 
lemagne, were  the  first  dynasty.  The  Carlovingian 
race,  deriving  the  title  from  Charles  the  Great, 
which  superseded  that  of  Merovseus,  and  reigned 
in  his  stead,  constituted  the  second.  The  third 
change  of  dynasty,  which  took  place  at  the  death  of 
Louis  le  Faineant,  may  be  attributed  to  causes 
which  shall  be  shortly  touched  upon. 

J.  Under  neither  of  these  dynasties  was  the  right 
of  hereditary  succession  so  well  defined  and  under- 
stood as  it  was  latterly.  The  brother  often  suc- 
ceeded to  a  deceased  monarch,  instead  of  his  son, 
without  reference  to  the  degree  of  propinquity  to  tbe 
last  king.  After  the  deposition  of  the  Merovingian 
line,  the  Bull  of  Pope  Zacharias,  which  assigned  the 
royalty  to  the  race  of  Pepin,  enjoined  the  French 
in  future,  in  choosing  their  emperor,  to  select  him 
exclusively  from  the  race  of  the  chosen  candidate, 
to  whose  family  it  stood  limited. 

This  limitation,  however,  did  not  establish  a  strict 
hereditary  line  of  succession,  for,  as  understood  in 
practice,  it  was  sufficiently  adhered  to,  provided  the 
candidate  for  sovereignty  was  of  the  race  of  Pepin 
or  Charlemagne  ;  so  that  the  empire  lay  open  as  an 
object  of  temptation  to  all  who  boasted  a  descent 
from  the  chosen  family,  however  distant  from  the 
9* 


102  THE    CARLOVINGIAN    KINGS. 

right  of  succession  in  a  direct  line.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  as  the  covetous  eyes  of  so  many 
princes  were  fixed  on  the  same  tempting  object,  the 
want  of  a  regular  and  fixed  rule  of  inheritance 
occasioned  great  disputes,  which  led  to  the  repeated 
division  and  subdivision  of  the  royal  dominions,  not 
only  weakening  the  body  of  the  empire,  but  often 
terminating  in  bloody  civil  wars,  by  wliich  it  was  still 
farther  torn  to  pieces. 

II.  The  empire  of  Charlemagne  comprehended 
a  huge  mass  of  territory,  extending  from  the  Tiber 
to  the  Elbe,  and  from  the  Pyrenean  mountains  to 
the  borders  of  Hungary,  consisting  of  many  nations, 
differing  in  descent,  laws,  language,  and  manners, 
whom  chance  and  the  abilities  of  one  individual  had 
united  for  a  time  under  one  government,  but  which 
had  an  internal  propensity  to  fall  asunder,  so  soon 
as  the  great  mind  w^hich  held  them  together  was 
removed.  Hence,  it  was  not  long  before  the  king- 
dom of  France  was  separated  from  that  of  Italy, 
and  from  the  empire,  latterly  so  called,  of  Germany. 

III.  The  grants  which  were  made  to  the  great 
officers  of  state,  and  vassals  of  the  crown,  had  their 
natural  influence  in  impoverishing  the  moaarchs  of 
France ;  so  that,  during  the  reign  of  the  tw"0  or 
three  last  monarchs  of  the  Carlovingian  line,  almost 
every  considerable  city  in  the  kingdom  was  in  pos- 
session of  some  duke,  count,  or  baron,  who  col- 
lected revenue  from  it,  excepting  only  Laon  and 
Rheims,  and  some  family  estates,  which  the  kings 
possessed  on  the  same  footing,  and  managed  in  the 
same  manner,  as  tliey  would  have  beenadmmistered 
by  private  individuals. 

Vhe  Carlovingian  family  being  reduced  to  so  low 
an  ebb  in  point  of  power  and  wealth,  it  was  not  to  be 


ACCESSION    OF    HUGO    CAPET.  103 

wondered  at,  if  the  nobility  of  France  resolved  to 
fill  the  throne  with  some  more  powerful  prince. 
Charles  Duke  of  Lorraine  was,  no  doubt,  the  bro- 
ther of  Lothaire,  and  the  next  heir,  therefore,  to 
Louis  Faineant,  his  deceased  nephew.  But  he  was 
far  inferior  in  talents  to  Hugo  Capet,  who  had  long 
been  esteemed  the  first  man  of  the  kingdom  in  point 
of  wealth,  the  second  probably  in  point  of  rank,  and 
the  first  in  actual  power. 

He  was  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  Aquitaine,  Count 
of  Paris  and  Orleans,  and  in  addition  to  these  dig- 
nities, bore  even  the  title  of  Duke  of  France, 
though  antiquaries  do  not  fully  state  the  import  of 
this  last  title.  He  brought  far  more  wealth  to  the 
crown  of  France,  than  he  could  inherit  by  succeed- 
ing to  it,  and  he  was  known  to  his  contemporaries  as 
the  best  general  and  wisest  statesman  of  his  time. 
Hugo  Capet  availed  himself  so  well  of  these  advan- 
tages, that,  on  the  death  of  Louis  le  Faineant, 
he  assembled  the  states  of  the  kingdom,  con-'^gg^' 
sisting  probably  of  the  principal  crown  vassals, 
with  the  bishops  and  prelates,  and  by  unanimous 
assent  was  chosen  King  of  France. 

With  a  view,  probably,  to  establish  the  security  of 
the  crown  in  his  own  family,  Hugo  Capet,  who  had 
already  been  successful  against  some  of  the  lords 
who  had  refused  him  their  allegiance,  proposed  to 
associate  his  son  Ptobert  in  the  same  dignity,  and 
obtained  the  assent  of  the  States  to  that  asso- 
ciation. 

Having  thus,  as  far  as  human  prudence  could 
command  the  future,  done  his  best  to  secure  the 
crown  in  his  family,  Hugo  Capet  laid  aside  the  royal 
state  and  kingly  attire,  and  lived  simply  and  mo- 
destly, as  before  his  accession  to  the  throne.    Charks 


104  WISE    MEASURES    OF    HUGO    CAPET. 

of  Lorraine,  the  Carlovingian  heir  to  the  crown, 
attempted,  though  tardily,  to  vindicate  the  succes- 
sion, but  was  surprised  and  made  prisoner  by  the 
elected  monarch  ;  and  being  thrown  into  prison  at 
Orleans,  was  detained  there  till  his  death.  The  son 
of  Charles  succeeded  him  in  the  Duchy  of  Lor- 
raine, but  died  without  male  issue  ;  and  in  his 
991^'person,  the  legitimate  succession  of  the  re- 
nowned Charlemagne  became  extinct. 

The  head  of  the  new  race  of  kings  behaved  with 
a  wisdom  and  steadiness  which  tended  to  secure  the 
succession  of  his  family  ;  for  though  brave  men 
may  gain  kingdoms,  it  is  wise  men  only  who  can 
transmit  them  to  their  lineage.  Hugo  Capet  bent 
his  mmd  to  sooth  all  discontents,  and  to  please 
every  class  of  his  subjects.  He  flattered  and  gra- 
tified the  clergy  by  resigning  to  them  such  abbeys 
as  he  possessed,  and  induced  many  of  his  nobles 
to  follow  his  example,  for  which  he  was  highly 
lauded  by  the  church. 

As  a  wise  man,  he  saw  the  danger  arising  to  the 
kingdom  from  the  independent  state  of  the  turbu- 
lent nobility  ;  but  he  sa^v,  also,  that  the  evil  was  too 
great  to  be  remedied,  and  was  contented  to  confine 
himself  to  slow  and  temporizing  measures.  He  de- 
manded little  more  from  the  crown  vassals  than  the 
Ijomage,  which,  while  he  limited  his  claim  to  it,  they 
had  no  interest  to  refuse,  and  while  he  encour- 
aged them  to  weaken  each  other  by  intestine  wars, 
he  determined  silently  to  await  the  time,  when  by 
degrees  the  power  of  the  crown  should  rise  upon 
their  ruins.  The  spirit  of  the  present  race  of  nobles 
was  such  as  would  have  endured  no  control ;  for 
when  Audibert,  Yicomte  of  Periguex,  laid  siege  to 
the  city  of  Tours,  and  the  king  wrote  to  him  com- 


REIGN    OF    ROBERT.  105 

manding  hin\  to  desist,  asking  him  i  aproachfnlly  who 
had  made  him  vicomte,  the  ieudai  chief  rephed  with 
scorn,  it  was  those  who  had  made  Capet  king  ;  and 
persevered  in  his  attack  upon  Tours,  in  defiance  of 
the  royal  mandate.  The  monarch  passed  over  an 
insult  which  he  had  not  sufficient  power  to  revenge. 

By  a  rare  mixture  of  wisdom  and  firm.ness,  this 
king  transmitted  to  his  family  a  throne  to  which  he 
had  no  hereditary  right,  with  little  opposition, 
and  almost  without  bloodshed.    He  died,  leav-  "^gg ' 
ing  his  dominions  in  perfect  tranquillity,  after 
a  reign  of  eight  years. 

Robert,  son  of  Hugo  Capet,  long  associated  with 
his  father,  was  now  sole  king.  He  followed  in  all 
respects  the  sagacious  and  prudent  measures  of  his 
predecessor,  who  had  bred  him  up  to  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  his  far-sighted  and  calm  policy. 
From  the  steadiness  of  his  conduct,  the  new  king 
acquired  the  distinction  of  The  Wise. 

For  securing  the  succession,  in  particular,  Robert 
followed  his  Other's  policy,  which  seems  for  some 
time  to  have  been  peculiar  to  the  Capet  family,  at 
least  to  their  earlier  princes.  He  caused  his  son 
Hugh  to  be  joined  in  the  government,  and  he  having 
died  without  issue,  Robert's  second  son  Henry,  was 
crowned  in  the  same  manner,  ten  years  after.  By 
this  provision,  the  chance  of  an  alteration  in  the  suc- 
cession was  much  diminished,  since  the  lineal  suc- 
cessor was  placed  in  possession  of  the  regal  power 
before  the  death  of  his  predecessor,  and  so  might 
instantly  assume  the  reins  of  government  wdien 
that  event  took  place. 

The  peace  of  Robert  was  somewhat  disturbed  by. 
the  political  intrigues  of  his  two  successive  queens, 
to  whose  ambition  he  appears  to  have  given  more 


106  REIGN    OF    ROBERT. 

free  course  than  consisted  with  the  prudence  of  his 
character  in  other  respects.  He  had  also  some 
trouble  from  the  disobedience  of  his  sons  ;  but 
these  were  only  passing  disturbances,  -and  soon 
appeased. 

The  reputation  of  Robert  for  wisdom  and  justice 
stood  so  high,  that  the  Emperor  of  Germany  having 
some  dispute  with  the  Count  of  Flanders,  and  others 
of  his  vassals,  both  parties  agreed  to  reter  them  to 
the  decision  of  the  King  of  France.  Upon  this 
business  the  two  princes  had  a  meeting  on  the  banks 
of  the  Meuse.  In  these  unhappy  times,  such  meet- 
ings had,  from  intidelity  on  the  one  part  or  the  other, 
often  ended  in  assassination. 

The  ministers  on  both  sides  had  accordingly 
adjusted  articles  of  meeting  in  person,  by  which  it 
was  proposed,  that  the  two  princes  should  leave  the 
opposite  sides  of  the  river,  and  meet  at  the  same 
moment  in  the  middle.  But  the  generous  emperor, 
confident  in  the  character  of  King  Robert,  set  cere- 
mony and  suspicion  at  defiance,  and,  crossing  the 
Meuse  without  scruple,  surprised  the  King  of  France 
with  a  visit  in  his  camp.  After  thus  dispensmg  with 
all  etiquette,  the  busmess  in  dependence  was  settled 
to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties. 

Two  years  after  this  interview,  the  good  Emperor 
Henry  died,  and  was  succeeded  in  his  German 
dominions  by  Conrade,  Duke  of  "Worms.  The 
Italian  subjects  of  Henry  by  no  means  wished  to 
share  the  same  fate,  and  intimated  their  desire  to 
submit  themselves  to  the  King  of  France,  to  whom 
accordingly  they  offered  the  imperial  crown,  and  the 
kingdom  of  Italy.  But  Robert,  though  this  acquisi- 
tion of  another  fair  portion  of  Constantine's  empire 
was  a  brilliant  and  tempting  ofier,  perceived  at  the 


DEATH    OF    ROBERT.  107 

same  time  he  should,  by  accepting  it,  be  hurried  into 
a  German  war,  for  the  sake  of  a  territory  separated 
from  France  by  the  Hne  of  the  Alps,  and  by  no  means 
likely  to  form  either  an  obedient  or  a  useful  part  of 
that  kingdom.  He,  therefore,  wisely  rejected  the 
dominion  offered  to  him,  considering  it  preferable  to 
increase  his  influence  by  the  improvement  of  his 
kingdom  at  home,  than  to  expend  its  strength  in  the 
task  of  making  himself  master  of  imposing  but 
useless  and  unprofitable  acquisitions  of  foreign  ter- 
ritories. - 

King  Robert's  domestic  government  was  of  the 
same  judicious  and  moderate  character  which  dis- 
tinguished his  foreign  politics.  He  used  his  royal 
power  for  the  benefit  of  his  subjects,  and  protected 
the  lower  and  oppressed  part  of  them,  as  much  as 
the  temper  of  the  times  permitted.  His  private 
charity  was  so  extensive,  that  upwards  of  a  thou- 
sand poor  persons  dined  at  his  expense  every  day, 
and,  in  the  excess  of  his  royal  humility,  were,  not- 
withstanding their  disgusting  rags  and  sores,  permit- 
ted to  approach  his  person.  It  is  pretended  he  used  to 
exercise  upon  them  the  supposed  gift,  claimed  after- 
wards both  by  the  kings  of  France  and  England,  of 
curing  the  disease  called  the  king's  evil,  by  their 
touch  and  their  prayers.  King  Robert  I.  of  ^q^' 
France  died   universally  regretted   in    1031. 

Upon  the  death  of  Robert  I.,  the  line  of  Capet 
began  to  show  some  symptoms  of  the  dissension 
which  had  brought  to  ruin  those  of  Merovseus  and 
of  Charles  the  Great.  The  succession  of  Henry, 
the  eldest  son  and  rightful  heir  of  Robert,  was  dis- 
puted by  his  younger  brother  Robert.  He  was  encou- 
raged by  his  mother,  who  had  always  hated  Henry, 
and  by  several  powerful  nobles,  who  were  probably 


iOB  ACCESSION    OF    HJJNRY    I. 

unwilling  tbat  in  another  reign,  resembling  in  mode- 
ration and  firmness  that  of  Robert  I.,  the  crown 
should  again  obtain  the  adva.ntage  which  such  a 
tranquil  period  afforded  the  king  over  his  nobihty. 

Robert  took  his  measures  so  suddenly,  and  was 
so  well  supported,  that  Henry,  with  a  retinue  of 
only  ten  or  eleven  persons  was  fain  to  save  himself 
from  captivity,  by  flying  to  the  country  of  Robert, 
then  Duke  of  Normandy,  for  protection.  He  was 
received  in  the  strong  castle  of  Fescamp,  and  the 
duke,  discharging  the  duty  of  a  faithful  vassal,  raised 
all  his  forces  in  defence  of  his  liege  lord,  against  the 
traitorous  attempts  of  his  younger  brother.  The 
Duke  of  Normandy  advanced  into  France  with  his 
forces,  and  ravaged  the  country  with  such  extreme 
severity,  that  he  obtained  for  himself  the  nickname 
of  Robert  h  Diahle,  or  Robin  the  Devil,  which  gave 
rise  to  several  fabulous  legends,  by  which  minstrels 
and  romancers  attempted  to  account  for  the  origin 
of  so  strange  an  epithet. 

The  two  armies  were  on  the  point  of  engaging  in 
a  decisive  conflict,  when  Robert,  returning  to  a  sense 
of  duty,  thought  it  better  to  submit  to  his  elder  bro- 
ther, than  run  the  risk  of  so  great  a  crime  as  that  of 
slaying  him.  He  submitted  accordingly,  and  was 
rewarded  \vith  the  Duchy  of  Burgundy,  after  which 
the  brothers  lived  in  concert  together.  Duke  Ro- 
bert of  Normandy  was  rewarded  with  a  considerable 
accession  of  territory,  so  that  the  strife  between  the 
brothers,  though  brief,  was  attended  by  the  usual 
consequences  of  weakening  the  crown. 

Henry  I.,  however,  did  not  lose  any  opportunity 
which  events  oflered  of  strengthening  his  throne. 
Disturbances  arose  concerning  part  of  Burgundy, 
next  to  Mount  Jura,  which  was  separate  from  the 


REIGN    OF    IIENUY    I.  109 

portion  assigned  to  the  king's  brother  Robert,  as 
above  noticed.  In  the  course  of  the  wars  which  en- 
sued, many  forfeitrres  were  made,  and  the  reunion 
of  the  fiefs  so  forfeited  with  the  crown,  served  to 
repair  the  losses  it  had  sustained  in  the  war  between 
the  brothers. 

Neither  did  Henry  I.  fail  to  avail  himself  of 
troubles  which  arose  in  Normandy,  although  he 
owed  a  great  debt  of  gratitude  to  the  duke,  whose 
timely  aid  had,  as  we  have  seen,  replaced  him  on 
the  throne.  This  prince,  advancing  now  in  age, 
began  to  think  of  making  amends  for  those  violent 
actions  which  had  in  war  procured  him  the  title  of 
Robin  the  Devil.  For  this  purpose,  as  was  the  cus- 
tom of  that  superstitious  period,  he  conceived  no 
mode  of  penitence  could  be  so  effectual  as  to  go  on 
a  pilgrimage  to  Palestine,  called  the  Holy  Land. 

The  desire  to  see  the  scenes  of  miracles,  and  suf- 
ferings the  most  momentous  which  could  be  under- 
gone, was  sufficiently  rational,  and  they  might  no 
doubt  be  often  visited  with  effectual  advantage  to 
the  pilgrim,  since  we  can  never  be  so  much  dispo- 
sed to  devotion  as  when  we  are  placed  in  the  very 
localities  where  such  events  have  actually  passed. 
But  to  forsake  the  moral  duties  which  we  are  called 
to  discharge,  and  to  ramble  over  strange  countries, 
neglecting  the  subjects,  families,  or  whomsoever  else 
have  been  designed  by  Providence  to  rely  on  our 
active  exertions  for  support,  is  gross  superstition, 
not  rational  religion.  At  this  early  period,  however, 
the  idea  prevailed,  that  men  obtained  by  their  toils, 
in  such  a  journey,  not  only  pardon  for  past  faults, 
but  indulgence  for  such  as  they  should  commit  in 
future. 

Duke  Robert  of  Normandy,  then,  prepared  for  his 

YOL.  I.  10 


110  PILGRIMAGE    TO    THE    HOLY    LAND, 

pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem.  Previous  to  his  departure, 
he  assembled  a  council  of  his  prelates  and  high  vas- 
sals ;  for  you  cannot  have  forgotten,  that,  like  all 
other  feudatories  of  France,  that  prince  had  his 
own  country  divided  among  vassals,  who  held  of  him 
by  the  same  tenure  by  which  he  held  his  duchy  of 
the  King  of  France.  He  placed  before  the  assembly 
a  son  of  his  own,  not  born  in  lawful  wedlock,  but 
the  child  of  a  woman  named  Arlotta.  This  was  the 
famous  William,  afterwards  Conqueror  of  England. 

This  youth  was  of  so  fair  a  person,  and  such  pro- 
mising talents,  that  his  father,  notwithstanding  his 
illegitimacy,  desired  he  should  succeed  him  as  his 
heir  in  the  dukedom.  He  prevailed  on  the  states  of 
Normandy  to  recognise  William  in  this  capacity, 
recommended  him  to  the  protection  of  Henry  of 
France,  and  Alan  Duke  of  Bretagne,  and  having 
thus  provided  for  his  succession,  he  set  off  upon  his 
pilgrimage,  from  which  he  never  returned. 

William,  the  future  Conqueror  of  England,  was 
thus  early  put  in  a  conspicuous  situation,  and  was 
thereby  exposed  to  misfortunes  and  dangers,  which 
undoubtedly  contributed  to  mature  and  exercise 
those  qualities  which  form  the  character  of  a  great 
man.  His  feudal  vassals,  no  longer  restrained  by 
the  authority  of  the  duke  himself,  took  advantage  of 
the  minority  of  the  sovereign  to  enter  into  feud  with 
each  other,  to  raise  troops,  fortify  castles,  and  levy 
wars  at  their  own  pleasure,  without  awaiting  the 
consent  of  William,  or  regarding  his  prohibition. 

On  the  other  hand.  King  Henry,  taking  advan- 
tage of  these  troubles,  invaded  the  Norman  fron- 
tiers, burnt  the  town  of  Argenton,  and  demolished 
the  Castle  of  Thilleres,  under  pretext  that  it  ought 
not  to  have  been  fortified  without  his  consent,  as 


NSURREOTION     SUFPRESSED.  Ill 

liege  lord  and  paramount.  William,  or  rather  those 
who  acted  in  his  behalf,  beset  with  dangers  on  e very- 
side,  thought  it  best  to  accommodate  these  quarrels 
with  the  King  of  France,  even  at  some  sacrifices  ; 
and  thus  for  a  time  secured  the  alliance  and  counte- 
nance of  Henry  I. 

It  was  tima,  indeed,  to  acquire  some  effectual 
support,  for  a  considerable  number  of  malecontent 
Norman  lords  had  formed  a  league  against  Duke 
William,  and  had  raised  an  army  amounting  to 
twenty-five  thousand  men,  having  for  its  head,  Guy 
of  Franche  Compte.  The  united  forces  of  King 
Henry  and  the  young  Duke  William,  which  together 
did  not  exceed  three  thousand  men,  marched  against 
the  insurgents.  They  engaged  the  opposing 
forces  near  Caen,  at  a  place  called  Val  de  jQ^g] 
Dunes.  King  Henry  was  unhorsed  by  a 
Norman  knight,  and  nearly  slain  ;  he  was  rescued, 
however,  and  gained  a  decisive  victory,  in  which 
very  many  of  the  insurgents  were  killed.  William, 
whose  subjects  were  completely  reduced  to  obedi- 
ence, reaped  all  the  advantage  of  this  war. 

But  Henry  soon  after  engaged  in  other  quarrels 
and  discussions,  by  which  new  dissensions  were 
created  in  Normandy.  These  disputes  he  wilfully 
fostered,  with  the  view  of  diminishing  the  strength 
of  this  overgrown  vassal,  which  he  looked  upon  as 
dangerous  to  the  crown.  He  was  not  deterred  from 
this  interference  by  the  assistance  faithfully  and  loy- 
ally rendered  him  by  Duke  William,  in  his  quarrel 
with  Stephen  and  Theobald,  two  sons  and  succes- 
sors of  Eudes,  Count  of  Champagne,  or  by  the  re- 
collection that  the  Duke  of  Normandy  had  involved 
himself  in  those  quarrels,  purely  to  serve  him.  On 
the  contrary,  Henry  showed  either  an  enmity  against 


112  HENRY    DEFEATED    AT    MOirrEMART. 

William's  person,  or  a  jealousy  of  his  power,  which 
he  took  the  following  method  to  manifest  :— First, 
he  engaged  William  of  Normandy  in  a  quarrel  with 
Godefroy  Count  of  Anjou,  called  by  the  formidable 
name  of  Martel,  and  thus  involved  these  two  great 
feudatories  in  a  war  which  must  necessarily  operate 
to  the  diminution  of  the  strength  of  both. 

When  the  Duke  of  Normandy  extricated  himself 
from  this  struggle  also  wdth  reputation  and  advan- 
tage, he  became  the  object  of  the  unconcealed 
jealousy  and  displeasure  of  the  French  king,  who 
then  publicly  espoused  the  cause  of  William  of  Ar- 
ques,  Count  of  Toulouse,  who  laid  claim  to  the 
duchy  of  Normandy,  as  son  of  Duke  Richard  II., 
and,  therefore,  rightful  heir  to  the  crown,  on  account 
of  WilUam's  illegitimacy.  Henry  accordingly  en- 
tered Normandy  with  a  strong  army,  to  dispossess 
the  young  friend,  with  whom  he  had  been  so  lately 
in  alliance. 

But  William  was  now  of  an  age  to  display  his 
wisdom  and  courage.     By  a  rapid  and  sudden 
10^!  ^ig^^  attack  near  Mortemart,  and  a  severe  bat- 
tle on  the  following  day,  he  worsted  the  French 
army,  with  the  loss  often  thousand  men.     This,  fol- 
lowed by  other  severe  checks,  induced   Henry  to 
consent  to  peace.     Cordiality,  however,  never  was 
restored  between  William  and  the   king  ;  and,  in 
those  mutual  feuds,  first  began  that  enmity  which 
cost  so  many  bloody  wars  between  the  descendants 
of  Henry,  King  of  France,  and  of  William,  whose 
posterity  succeeded  him  as  Kings  of  England. 

After  his  pacification  with  the  Duke  of  Norman- 
dy, Henry  turned  himself  to  that  which  was  a  favou- 
rite piece  of  policy  in  the  House  of  Capet.  We 
have  already  explained,  that  this  was  the  association 


MINORITY    OF    PHILIP.  113 


of  a  successor  in  the  throne,  in  order  to  secure  sta- 
bihty  in  the  royal  succession.     Philip,  the  eldest  of 
Henry's  sons,  was  raised,  at  the  early  age  of  seven 
years,  to  share  the  throne  of  his  father,  who 
died  in  the  same  year,  led,Ving  his  son  under  jQgJl 
the   guardianship    of   Baldwin   of  Flanders, 
called,  from  his  worth  and  religion,  the  Pious. 

Henry  left  behind  him  a  tolerably  fair  character, 
except  in  regard  to  his  Machiavellian  intrigues  to 
diminish  the  power  of  his  great  vassals.  It  is  true, 
the  precarious  situation  of  the  Kings  of  France  had, 
for  some  time,  suggested  such  a  policy  ;  but  in  fol- 
lowing it,  Henry  I.  trampled  not  only  upon  the  vir- 
tue of  justice,  but  of  gratitude. 


CHAPTER  VH. 

It  is  necessary  to  say  little  more  of  the  minority 
of  Philip,  than  that,  for  a  country  so  disturbed  as 
France,  it  passed  with  little  interruption  of  the  pub- 
lic peace.  This  was  chiefly  owing  to  the  wise  go- 
vernment of  Count  Baldwin,  who  remained  always 
upon  his  guard  against  treachery  from  every  quarter, 
taking  care,  at  the  same  time,  to  give  no  pretence 
for  such  practices,  by  offending  any  of  the  ^-eat  no- 
bles. The  Gascons  indeed,  a  people  of  a  fiery  and 
changeable  disposition,  at  one  period  meditated  a 
revolt.  But  the  Count  of  Flanders,  raising  a  con- 
siderable force,  under  pretence  of  threatened  inva- 
sion by  the  Saracens,  led  an  army  so  suddenly  into 
Aquitaine,  as  to  render  their  design  abortive. 
10* 


114  ORIGIN    OF    CHIVALRY. 

But  although  France  had,  in  its  interior,  little 
materials  for  history  during  this  period,  enterprises 
were  undertaken  by  individuals  who  emigrated  from 
thence  during  the  reign  of  Henry  I.  and  the  mino- 
rity of  Phihp,  which  strike  the  mind  with  astonish- 
ment, considering  the  important  effects  produced  by 
the  desperate  courage  of  a  few  men.  The  ruling 
character  of  the  agents,  in  the  extraordinary  efforts 
which  I  am  about  to  relate  to  you,  requires  now  to 
be  stated.  It  was  in  many  respects  different  from 
the  principles  by  which  mere  barbarians  are  guided, 
but  varied  no  less  from  those  views  and  notions 
which  direct  civilized  nations. 

On  this  account  it  becomes  necessary,  perhaps, 
to  look  far  back  into  the  commencement  of  society, 
to  find  the  original  germ  of  that  system  of  chivahy, 
which  occasioned  so  many  marvellous  actions 
during  the  middle  ages,  and,  in  some  important  par- 
ticulars, still  preserves  its  effects  upon  our  present 
manners. 

The  origin  of  the  institution  of  knighthood,  being 
the  basis  of  chivalry,  may  be  easily  traced.  The 
warriors  of  the  ancient  Gallic  tribes,  who  fought  on 
horseback,  and  were  more  highly  esteemed  than  the 
infantry,  were  termed,  by  the  Romans,  Equites,  or 
Horsemen,  a  rank  of  soldiery  possessing  consider- 
able precedence  over  others. 

The  Germans  approached  the  modern  ideas  of 
knighthood  more  closely.  The  youth  was  not  ac- 
counted fit  for  sharing  the  councils  of  his  tribe,  un- 
til the  age  of  twenty-one  years  was  attained,  when, 
certain  ceremonies  being  used,  he  was  brought  into 
the  public  assembly,  invested  with  arms  resembhng 
those  of  his  elder  brethren  ;  and,  in  short,  admitted 
to  all  the  privileges  of  an  adult  warrior.     The  period 


TRAINING    OF    KNIGHTS.  115 

of  his  admission  into  the  councils  of  the  freemen 
and  warriors  of  the  nation,  added,  of  consequence, 
to  the  young  man's  importance,  and  qualified  him  to 
act  as  a  chief  and  principal  in  war,  where  his  ser- 
vices hitherto  had  been  only  used  as  a  private  sol- 
dier and  follower. 

These  regulations  led  to  the  establishment  of  an 
order  of  champions  among  the  Franks  and  other 
German  nations,  who  had  achieved  settlements  in 
Gaul,  or  France,  as  it  was  now  called.  Those  who 
were  ambitious  to  distinguish  themselves  by  mili- 
tary fame,  which  comprehended,  speaking  generally, 
almost  all  who  held  fiefs,  whether  of  the  sovereign 
or  subjects,  or  who  were  otherwise  entitled  to  the 
name  of  freemen,  were  carefully  educated  in  horse- 
manship, the  use  of  the  lance  and  sword,  manage- 
ment of  the  horse,  and  other  warlike  exercises. 
During  this  training,  the  young  men,  who  were  for 
the  time  called  pages,  resided  as  a  part  of  the  house- 
hold of  some  king,  noble,  or  man  of  rank,  whose 
family  was  supposed  to  be  a  school  of  mihtary  dis- 
cipline. 

When  arrived  at  a  certain  age,  the  page,  as  able  to 
support  the  duties  of  war,  became  an  esquire,  and 
waited  immediately  upon  his  lord  in  battle,  or  during 
travel,  serving  him  as  a  close  and  confidential  at- 
tendant, and  always  ready  to  peril  his  life  for  him. 
This,  though  a  species  of  servitude,was  not  reckoned 
degrading ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  candidate  for 
the  highest  honours  of  chivalry  was  not  accounted 
worthy  of  them,  until  he  had  shown,  by  the  patient 
obedience  of  years  as  a  squire,  that  he  was  worthy 
to  command  others  in  the  capacity  of  a  knight. 

When  he  was  esteemed  fit  for  the  rank,  the  can- 
didate was  then  dubbed  knight.     In  the  ceremony, 


116  CEREMONY    OF    IVTAKING    KNIGHTS. 

some  things  were  taken  from  the  ancient  mode  of 
receiving  the  youths  into  the  councils  of  the  war- 
riors, while  their  ancestors  still  inhabited  the  forests 
and  swamps  of  Germany.  A  sword  was  girded 
around  the  aspirant's  body  ;  spurs  were  bound  upon 
his  heels  ;  the  person  by  whom  the  ceremony  was 
performed,  struck  the  acolyte  of  chivalry  on  the 
shoulders  with  the  flat  of  his  naked  sword,  and  he 
was  thus  invested  with  a  high  military  dignity,  which, 
in  a  certain  sense,  placed  him,  however  poor,  upon 
a  level  with  the  wealthiest  and  most  powerful  no- 
bles ;  for,  in  theory,  all  knights  were  equal,  except 
in  so  far  as  they  excelled  each  other  in  military 
fame. 

Other  ceremonies  were  mingled  with  those  we  ■ 
have  mentioned,  which  had  been  introduced  by  the 
churchmen,  who  naturally  desired  to  attach  to  a 
solemnity  so  striking,  something  connected  with 
the  forms  of  religion.  In  many  cases,  accordingly, 
the  young  knight  watched  his  arms  for  the  night  in 
some  church  or  chapel,  and  occupied  himself  in 
watching  and  prayer.  He  also  took  a  solemn  oath 
to  protect,  at  his  utmost  risk,  the  cause  of  the  Catho- 
lic religion  ;  to  redress  by  his  valour  such  wrongs, 
and  abolish  such  evil  customs,  as  he  might  dis- 
cover ;  an  herculean  task,  at  the  time  when  almost 
every  district  groaned  under  the  tyranny  of  some 
petty  despot,  who  oppressed  the  poor  without  their 
having  any  one  to  appeal  to. 

The  protection  of  widows  and  orphans,  and  of  the 
female  sex  in  all  ranks  of  society,  was  also  enjoined. 
Lastly,  fidelity  to  the  king,  chief,  or  lord,  was  sworn 
to  by  the  young  knight.  By  these  means  the  order 
of  knighthood  was  rendered  in  theory  an  association, 


DUTIES    OF    KNIGHTHOOD.  117 

bound  by  oath  to  forward  the  discharge  of  all  the 
social  duties  v/hich  religion  enjoined. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  all,  or  many  of  the 
knights  thus  created,  arrived  even  within  a  few 
points  of  the  excellence  which  they  were  in  this 
respect  required  to  attain.  Some,  however,  whose 
character  in  adhering  to  these  vows,  had  recom- 
mended them  to  the  age  as  very  perfect  examples 
of  chivalry,  obtained  the  general  approbation  of 
prince  and  people  ;  and  he  was  most  valued  who 
exposed  hiaiself  to  the  most  extravagant  dangers  in 
the  support  of  his  character  for  courage. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  that  while  the  institutions  of 
chivalry  gave  an  air  of  romantic  dignity  and  gran- 
deur to  the  manners  of  the  age,  while  the  system 
continued  to  flourish,  stigmatizing  all  that  was  base 
and  selfish,  and  encouraging  the  knights,  who  would 
be  held  desirous  of  public  applause,  to  seek  it  by 
exhibiting  the  purest  faith,  and  the  most  undaunted 
courage,  without  being  seduced  from  their  purpose 
by  the  prospect  of  advantage,  or  deterred  from  it  by 
the  most  alarming  dangers,  there  mixed,  neverthe- 
less, with  these  generous  maxims,  much  that  was 
extravagant,  wild,  and  sometimes  absolutely  ridicu- 
lous. 

Every  knight,  for  example,  was  expected  to 
devote  his  affections  to  some  fair  lady,  v/hom  he 
was  to  serve  for  years,  and  v/ith  unaltered  fide- 
lity, although,  perhaps,  neither  her  rank  in  life,  noi 
her  inclinations,  entitled  him  to  expect  any  return  of 
her  affections  ;  nay,  although  the  lady,  having  con- 
ferred her  hand  on  some  other  person,  could  return 
his  supposed  passion  with  no  other  regard  than 
gratitude  might  permit.  All  the  deeds  of  valour 
which  he  performed,  were  supposed  to  be  owing  to 


118  TOURNAMENTS. 


the  influence  of  this  terrestrial  goddess,  and  the 
champions  wearied  out  their  imaginations  in  outvy- 
ing each  other  in  the  feats  of  arms  which  they  did, 
or  proposed  to  do,  in  the  name  of  their  mistresses. 

The  system  of  chivalry  also  involved  the  great 
error  of  intrusting  the  guardianship  of  almost  all 
civil  rights  to  the  decision  of  the  sword,  so  that  it 
was  scarcely  possible  for  a  man  of  low  rank  to  ob- 
tain justice,  unless  he  was  prepared  to  fight  for  it  in 
the  lists,  or  had  some  champion  willing  to  fight  in 
his  cause. 

The  very  sports  of  chivalry  involved  the  risk  of 
life.  The  military  exercises  of  tilts  and  tourna- 
ments in  which  they  encountered  each  other  with 
lances,  each  endeavouring  to  keep  his  own  saddle, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  unhorse  his  antagonist,  were 
their  favourite  pastime.  On  this  occasion,  each 
knight  supported  the  beauty  and  merit  of  some  par- 
ticular lady,  the  influence  of  whose  charms  was 
supposed  to  stimulate  him  to  victory,  as  her  fame 
was,  on  the  other  hand,  extended  by  his  success. 

These  warlike  entertainments  were  the  delight  of 
the  age,  and  though  repeatedly  prohibited  by  the 
church  as  inhuman  and  unchristian,  were  solemnly 
practised,  nevertheless,  at  the  courts  of  the  different 
sovereigns  of  Europe,  who  displayed  their  magni- 
ficence in  the  splendour  with  which  the  feats  of  chi- 
valry were  performed  in  their  own  presence,  while 
the  ladies  looked  on  from  the  balconies,  to  grace  the 
victors  with  their  applause.  The  encounter  pro- 
fessed to  be  a  friendly  one,  an  amicable  trial  in  arms, 
and  the  combatants  expressed  the  utmost  regard  for 
each  other.  But  this  did  not  prevent  the  lives  of 
many  brave  champions  being  lost  in  the  rough  sport, 
which  was  rather  a  regular  and  modified  kind  of 


ORIGIN     OF    CHIVALRY    IN    FRANCE,  119 

actual  battle,  than  as  it  professed  to  be,  a  mere 
imitation  of  war. 

It  is  certain  that,  from  the  respect  towards  the 
female  sex  enjoined  by  the  laws  of  chivalry,  om-  mo- 
dern times  have  derived  that  courteous  deference 
and  respect  for  women,  which  assigns  to  the  ladies 
in  the  cultivated  countries  of  Europe,  an  importance 
in  society  so  different  from  the  state  of  degradation 
to  which  they  are  reduced  in  other  quarters  of  the 
world.  But  it  is  more  difficult  to  imagine  how  this 
high  and  romantic  tone  had  been  breathed  into  the 
institutions  of  the  Franks  while  a  barbarous  people. 

It  is  probable,  that  the  origin  may  have  been 
found  in  the  institutions  of  the  old  Germans,  which, 
as  we  before  noticed,  admitted  the  females  of  the 
tribe  to  a  high  degree  of  estimation  ;  and  as  they 
did  not  permit  their  youth  to  marry  till  twenty-one 
years  complete,  their  young  warriors  were  trained 
up  in  the  habit  of  distant  respect,  awe,  and  venera- 
tion for  those  who  were  to  *be  companions  of  their 
future  lives. 

There  is  no  precise  account  of  the  origin  of  chi- 
valry ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that,  considered 
under  a  modern  aspect,  that  remarkable  system  had 
its  rise  in  France,  to  the  natural  manners  of  which 
country  the  gallantry  and  devotion  to  the  fair  sex 
which  it  dictated — not  to  mention  a  certain  tone  of 
national  and  personal  vanity  which  it  was  well  cal- 
culated to  advance — were  peculiarly  congenial. 

In  France,  the  young  warrior,  when  admitted  to 
the  dignity  of  the  new  order,  was  called  chevalier^ 
that  is,  horseman^  from  cheval,  a  horse,  the  ancient 
name  of  eques,  translated  into  the  language  of  the 
country,  being  seized  upon  to  express  the  newly  in- 
augurated  knight.      In    Germany,   the  equivalent 


120      CHIVALRY    ADOPTED    BY    TKC    NORMANS. 

term  of  ritter,  or  rider,  was  made  use  of.  The 
origin  of  the  English  word  knight,  which  bears  the 
same  meaning,  is  more  doubtful. 

In  the  Anglo-Saxon  language,  where  the  meaning 
must  be  sought,  hnecht  signifies  a  servant,  and  was 
applied,  by  way  of  distinction,  to  the  select  attend- 
ants on  the  prince  (as  we  still  call  a  soldier  a  ser- 
vant of  the  king) — a  title  readily  transferred  to  the 
newly-dubbed  cavalier,  as  expressing  a  chosen  and 
trained  warrior.  The  word  does  not,  however,  pre- 
sent the  idea  of  the  origin  of  the  institution  so  accu- 
rately as  either  the  French  or  German  word.  Nor, 
although  the  order  of  chivalry  rose  to  the  highest  es- 
teem in  Britain,  do  we  suppose  that  it  was,  in  a  proper 
sense,  known  in  that  island,  till,  as  you  shall  presently 
hear,  it  was  brought  thither  by  the  Normans,  who 
travelled  in  arms  into  various  parts  of  Europe  dur- 
ing the  11th  century,  overthrowing  ancient  king- 
doms, establishing  new  ones,  and  outdoing,  if  that 
were  possible,  all  the  wonders  and  marvels  of  chi- 
valrous romance,  by  the  display  they  made  of  it  in 
their  own  persons. 

The  Normans,  we  have  seen,  had  now,  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  been  inhabitants  of  France,  and  es- 
tablished themselves  in  the  province  to  which  they 
gave  their  name.  They  had  become  softened,  rather 
than  corrupted  or  subdued,  by  the  advantages  and 
luxuries  of  their  new  settlements.  They  still  retained 
unimpaired  the  daring  and  desperate  courage  with 
which  their  fathers  had  sallied  from  their  frozen 
oceans  to  ravage  and  to  conquer  the  domains  of  a 
milder  climate  ;  but  they  exercised  it  with  more  hu- 
manity, inspired  doubtless  by  their  conversion  to 
Christianity. 

The  new  institutions  of  chivalry  were  speedil/ 


WARS    OF    ITALY.  121 

adopted  by  a  nation  which  possessed  ah'eady  so 
many  points  in  common  with  them.  So  brave  a 
race,  imbued  from  infancy  with  the  principle  that 
death  was  preferable,  not  only  to  flight,  but  to  the 
manifestation  of  the  least  symptom  of  fear,  thought 
little  of  the  dangers  which  might  have  terrified  others 
in  the  exercise  of  chivalry.  Like  other  nations  of 
the  north  also,  the  Normans  had  practised,  ere  they 
left  their  own  climate,  that  reverential  and  respect- 
ful conduct  towards  the  female  sex,  which  was 
another  basis  of  chivalry. 

The  tilt  and  tourney  were,  in  the  opinion  of  these 
warlike  nations,  only  a  variation  of  their  own  com- 
bats with  clubs  and  swords,  in  which  the  pretence 
was  sport,  though  often  turned  into  earnest  by  the 
fury  of  the  encounter.  Above  all,  the  more  modern 
Normans  united  the  utter  carelessness  of  danger, 
and  contempt  of  life,  which  characterized  their  ances- 
tors who  fought  under  Rollo,  with  the  gay  valour 
and  love  of  adventure,  which  was  proper  to  the 
inhabitants  of  France,  and  which  this  race  kept  in 
practice,  by  the  quarrels  of  their  duke  with  his  sove- 
reign of  France,  and  with  his  compeers,  the  great 
vassals  of  the  crown. 

Chivalry  flourished  in  so  fertile  a  soil,  and  the 
Norman  knights  held  the  first  rank  among  those  of 
Europe.  Such  being  their  character,  a  part  of  this 
brave  nation  found  sudden  exercise  for  their  feats  of 
arms  in  the  wars  of  Italy,  where  they  made  conquests 
which  flattered  their  vanity,  and  gratified  their  love 
of  glory. 

To  understand  this,  you  must  be  informed,  that, 
after  the  descendants  of  Charlemagne  had  degene- 
rated into  feeble  princes,  the  towns  and  coasts  of 
Italy  became  divided  between  the  Greeks  (who  re- 

VOL.    I.  11 


122  WARS    OF    ITALY. 

claimed  the  possession  of  that  fine  country  as  the 
original  seat  of  the  empire,  which  was  removed  to 
Constantinople  by  Constantine)  and  the  Saracens. 

The  various  incursions  of  the  latter  people  upon 
the  Christian  world  had  been  set  on  foot  for  the  pur- 
pose of  conquering  and  converting  the  provinces 
which  they  invaded.  They  conquered  Sicily,  and 
colonized  it.  The  dominions  of  the  present  king- 
dom of  Naples  next  invited  their  arms,  and  a  strong 
colony,  for  a  long  time  maintained  at  Bari,  placed 
the  Adriatic  gulf  under  the  command  of  the  naval 
power  of  the  Saracens.  Notwithstanding  this,  the 
Greeks,  a  politic  and  sagacious  nation,  contrived  to 
recover  Bari,  and  to  establish  their  authority  in  a 
great  part  of  the  eastern  half  of  Italy.  Luxury,  and 
its  enervating  consequences,  had,  however,  rendered 
their  armies  very  unfit  to  meet  the  eastern  fanatics* 

But  the  Emperor  of  Constantinople  still  com- 
manded the  services  of  experienced  and  cautious 
generals,  and  they  supplied  the  deficiencies  of  their 
own  troops  by  the  daring  courage  of  Franks,  Lom- 
bards, and  other  barbarians,  whom  they  engaged  in 
their  cause.  They  were  also  masters  of  the  art  of 
negotiation,  and  little  scrupulous  in  keeping  the 
terms  which  they  had  made,  when  an  opportunity 
occurred  of  gaining  an  advantage,  though  at  the  ex 
pense  of  good  faith.  By  such  means  the  Greeks 
maintained  a  doubtful  struggle  with  the  Saracens, 
which  of  them  should  obtain  the  exclusive  posses- 
sion of  Italy. 

About  this  period  the  natives  of  Normandy,  whose 
temper  and  habits  we  have  described,  began  to  think 
of  amending  their  fortunes,  by  undertaking  expedi- 
tions on  their  own  account,  to  free  the  peninsula  of 
Italy  at  once  from  the  bondage  of  the  Greeks  and  of 


NORMAN    AUXILIARIES.  123 

the  Saracens.  The  former  they  considered  as 
effeminate  tyrants,  heretics  also,  as  the  Greek  church 
holds  some  tenets  different  from  that  of  Rome.  As 
to  the  Saracens,  their  character  of  infidels  was  suf- 
ficient to  render  war  against  them  not  only  lawful, 
but  a  religious  and  meritorious  task. 

The  first  attempts  of  these  Norman  adventurers 
were  undertaken  with  too  great  inferiority  of  num- 
bers, to  be  decidedly  successful.  For  a  time  they 
were  only  remarkable  for  their  desperate  courage, 
which  displayed  itself  in  behalf  of  Germans,  Greeks, 
or  even  Saracens,  who  were  best  able  to  reward 
their  exertions  ;  and  it  was  observed  that  victory 
seemed  to  attend  in  every  case  the  side  on  which 
they  fought.  Their  numbers,  however,  were  gra- 
dually increased  by  additional  recruits  from  their 
own  country  of  Normandy,  and  by  some  Italians, 
who  joined  their  ranks,  on  the  condition  of  observ- 
ing their  customs,  and  emulating  their  valour. 

In  the  year  1029,  the  Normans  in  Italy  assumed 
a  more  national  appearance,  and  fixed  their  head- 
quarters at  Aversa,  a  town  conferred  on  them  by  the 
Duke  of  Naples.  Here  they  lived  under  the  govern- 
ment of  counts,  or  chieftains,  of  their  own  election; 
and,  joining  their  forces  with  those  of  the  Greek 
emperor,  did  much  to  achieve  the  reconquest  of 
Sicily.  Being  ungratefully  requited  by  the  Grecian 
general,  Maniaces,  the  Normans  took  arms  to 
punish  the  ingratitude  of  their  allies.  The  Greeks 
assembled  a  large  army,  and,  confident  in  their 
numbers,  sent  to  the  Normans  to  offer  them  either 
battle  or  a  safe  retreat.  "  To  battle  !"  exclaimed 
the  Normans,  while  one  of  their  knights  struck 
down  with  a  blow  of  his  fist  the  horse  of  the  Gre- 
cian messenger. 


124       WARS    OF    THE    GREEKS    AND    NORMANS. 

The  Greeks,  notwithstanding  their  superiority  in 
numbers,  received  a  total  defeat,  and  the  Normans 
gained  possession  of  a  great  part  of  their  dominions 
in  Apulia,  a  few  strong  places  excepted.  They 
now  arrayed  their  forces  under  the  command  of 
twelve  counts,  the  chief  of  whom  took  the  title  of 
Count  of  Apulia. 

The  first  who  held  this  title  of  eminence,  was  a 
distinguished  warrior  named  William  Braccio  di 
Fer,  which  means  Iron-arm,  from  his  irresistible 
strength,  which  he  displayed  at  the  expense  of  both 
the  Greeks  and  Saracens.  But  his  renown  was 
eclipsed  by  that  of  the  celebrated  Robert  Guiscard, 
a  Norman,  descended  from  a  race  of  Vavasours,  or 
petty  nobles,  who  had  originally  their  family  seat  at 
Haute ville  in  Normandy.  Robert  was  the  most 
distinguished  among  the  family  of  Tancred  de 
Hauteville,  although  consisting  of  twelve  sons,  all 
of  whom,  as  they  became  severally  of  age,  forsook 
their  father's  castle,  and  followed  the  steps  of  their 
elder  brother,  to  seek  glory  or  death  in  the  wars  of 
Italy. 

They  were  distinguished  by  their  valour  and  skill 
in  obscure  warfare,  until  the  convulsed  state  of  the 
times  permitted  them  to  start  forth  as  leaders  and 
as  heroes.  Wherever  any  of  these  brethren  appear- 
ed, it  would  seem  that  fortune  attached  herself  to 
the  standard  under  v.hich  they  fought.  The  great 
odds  of  numbers  never  prevented  their  obtaining 
victory  ;  the  utmost  severity  of  suffering  or  distress 
never  effected  the  slightest  change  in  their  unyield- 
ing perseverance.  The  father  of  this  heroic  family 
raised  himself  from  the  rank  of  count  to  that  ol 
duke,  and,  in  fact,  of  sovereign  prince  of  Apulia 
and  Calabria.     The  valour  of  his  brother,  Roger, 


SUCCESSES    OF    THE    GUISCARDS.  125 

achieved  the  conquest  of  Sicily  from  the  Saracens, 
and  held  the  sovereignty  with  the  title  of  count. 

Robert  Guiscard  himself  waged  open  war  on 
Atexius  Comnenus,  the  Grecian  Emperor,  and  in 
the  celebrated  combat  of  Durazzo,  gained  a  bloody 
and  well-disputed  victory,  which  shook  the  very 
foundations  of  the  imperial  throne,  although  then 
occupied  by  a  sovereign  of  peculiar  sagacity  and 
courage.  But  four  years  afterwards,  Guis- 
toss'  <^^^^'  ^^^^  ^'^^  achieved  so  many  wonders, 
died  in  his  seventieth  year,  while  still  waging 
war  against  Alexius,  and  endeavouring,  by  improv- 
ing his  old  and  devising  new  resources,  to  make  up 
the  loss  he  had  sustained,  rather  by  the  inclemency 
of  the  elements  than  by  the  sword  of  the  enemy. 

The  male  line  of  this  daring  adventurer  became 
extinct,  but  that  of  Roger,  Count  of  Sicily,  survived, 
to  represent  the  courage,  the  enterprise,  and  the 
ambition  of  the  House  of  Guiscard.  The  exploits 
of  the  Normans  in  Italy,  and  in  the  East,  abound 
with  many  interesting  and  highly  chivalrous  stories, 
which  would  attract  your  attention,  and  repay  me 
for  the  trouble  of  compiling  them,  but  their  con- 
nection with  the  history  of  France  is  not  so  near  as 
to  permit  them  to  enter  into  the  present  collection. 
As  brilliant,  and  a  much  more  durable  effect,  of  the 
Norman  valour,  was  produced  by  the  conquest  of 
England. 


126 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Norman  Conquest — a  great  event,  which 
continues  its  effects  even  to  our  own  day — w^as  for 
many  centuries  the  abundant  source  of  wars  as  in- 
veterate and  bloody  as  the  world  ever  saw.  Like 
other  revolutions  of  that  destructive  period,  it  had  its 
remote  origin  in  the  feeble  and  decayed  state  in 
which  the  Romans  left  the  island  of  Britain,  or  at 
least  its  southern  and  more  fertile  moiety,  when 
they  withdrew  their  experienced  legions  from  the 
defence  of  the  colonists,  and,  having  first  deprived 
them  of  arms,  and  allowed  their  military  habits  to 
fall  into  disuse,  left  them,  unaided,  to  protect  them- 
selves against  the  unconquered  barbarians  of  the 
northern  parts  of  the  island,  then  termed  Scots  and 
Picts.  . 

Finding  themselves  exposed  to  the  attacks  of 
these  fierce  people,  it  is  well  known  that  the  dis- 
pirited Britons  summoned  to  their  assistance  the 
Saxons,  a  people  inhabiting  the  north  of  Germany, 
and  the  southern  shores  of  the  Baltic.  A  nation 
thus  imploring  the  defence  of  stranger  tribes,  ex- 
posed themselves  of  course  to  their  rapacity. 

The  Saxons  repelled  'indeed  the  irruptions  of  the 
northern  barbarians  ;  but  summoning  more  of  their 
brethren  to  share  the  conquest  of  a  country  which 
the  natives  could  not  defend,  they  gradually  occu- 
pied the  fertile  lowlands  of  the  island,  which  became 
from  them  first  distinguished  by  the  name  of  Eng- 
land,  (land  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,)  and  drove  the 


SAXON    HEPTARCHY.  127 

natives,  who  continued  their  resistance,  into  the 
northern  mountains  of  Westmoreland  and  Cumber- 
land, and  the  provinces  now  called  Wales, — in 
which  last  country  the  remains  of  the  primitive  Gael 
or  Celtic  inhabitants  of  the  island  are  still  to  be 
found.  This  Saxon  conquest  formed  a  nation  not 
dissimilar  in  manners  to  that  of  the  Franks,  as  the 
victors  in  some  degree  incorporated  with  their  own 
nation  the  conquered  Britons  and  Roman  colonists. 

The  Anglo-Saxons,  like  the  Franks,  had  no  very 
distinct  notions  of  hereditary  succession  ;  and  to 
add  to  this  great  inconvenience,  the  invaders  had 
been  drav/n  from  separate  tribes,  each  of  whom  ex- 
pected their  portion  of  the  spoil  in  settlements,  and 
in  the  privilege  of  recognising  an  independent  king 
or  chieftain  of  their  own.  Hence  the  impolitic 
division  of  England  into  seven  petty  kingdoms, 
called  the  heptarchy,  which  existed,  exclusive  of  the 
tract  of  country  still  possessed  by  the  native  British. 
A  series  of  intrigues,  and  of  bloody,  though  petty 
wars,  was  the  natural  consequence  of  the  claims  of 
the  little  tyrants  of  each  state.  During  these  con- 
tests, the  country,  as  a  whole,  sufiered  much, 
though  for  some  time  no  one  kinglet  could  obtain 
any  decided  advantage. 

Such  small  kingdoms  have,  nevertheless,  the 
same  propensities  to  unite  with  each  other,  as  may 
be  observed  in  drops  of  water  which  are  running 
down  the  same  plate  of  glass.  By  succession,  by 
composition,  by  conquest,  the  petty  states  of  the 
heptarchy  were  at  length  melted  down  into  one 
monarchy,  which  suffered  its  full  share  in  the  dis- 
tresses inflicted  upon  Europe  by  the  invasion  of  the 
Normans.  Indeed,  at  that  time,  the  Danes,  being 
the  nation  of  Northmen  who  chiefly  harassed  the 


128  CHARACTER    OF    THE    NORMANS. 

coasts  of  England,  were  able  to  establish  a  dynasty 
of  kings  on  the  English  throne,  a  disgrace  to  which 
France  had  never  stooped. 

On  the  death  of  Hardicanute,  however,  the  last 
Danish  prince,  the  Saxons  were  again  enabled  to 
restore  the  crown  of  England  to  their  own  royal 
family,  by  the  election  of  Edward,  called  the 
Confessor,  to  that  dignity.  It  was  chiefly  in  this 
prince's  reign  that  the  increasing  intercourse  be- 
tween the  kingdom  of  England  and  the  Duchy  of 
Normandy,  prepared  both  countries  for  the  impor- 
tant events  which  afterwards  took  place. 

The  Normans,  it  must  be  remembered,  were  a 
race  possessed  of  as  much  civilization  as  the  times 
admitted,  who  valued  themselves,  and  were  prized 
in  foreign  nations,  both  on  account  of  the  elevated 
and  ardent  chivalry  which  they  displayed  in  battle, 
and  the  lofty  and  somewhat  fantastic  manners,  which 
were  then  accounted  courtesy  in  civil  life.  In  their 
architecture,  their  theory  of  feudal  law,  their  habits 
of  society,  their  rules  of  hunting,  and  their  practice 
of  military  discipline,  they  affected  a  difference  from, 
and  a  superiority  over,  the  blunter  manners  of  the 
unrefined  Saxons,  for  whose  institutions  and  habits 
the  courtly  and  chivalrous  Normans  entertained  a 
degree  of  contempt  amounting  to  disgust. 

But  England  was  a  land  in  which  estates  were  to 
be  acquired,  and  the  Normans,  who  were  always  of 
an  emigrating  and  adventurous  disposition,  came  in 
numbers  to  the  court  of  Edward  the  Confessor, 
where  they  were  courteously  received,  and  liberally 
provided  for.  The  king  was  himself  Norman  by 
the  mother's  side,  being  descended  from  Emma,  a 
daughter  of  Richard  I.  Duke  of  Normemdy,  grand- 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  ENGLISH.       129 

son  of  Rollo,  or  Robert,  who  founded  the  princi- 
pality. 

Besides,  in  his  youth,  the  Saxon  king  had  found 
refuge  at  the  court  of  Normandy,  during  the  tumults 
which  agitated  England,  and  had  become  attached 
to  the  people  and  their  mode  of  life,  which  had  in  it 
something  more  agreeable  to  a  youthful  prince,  than 
the  blunt,  hardy,  and  almost  rude  character,  of  the 
ancient  English.  Edward,  in  consequence  of  this 
partiality,  introduced  into  his  court  the  manners, 
customs,  and  language  of  the  Normans.  The  latter 
was  French,  for  the  descendants  of  Rollo  had  long 
forgotten  the  Danish,  or  Norse  language,  spoken  by 
their  fathers. 

The  Saxons  of  England  saw,  with  great  resent- 
ment, the  preference  given  by  the  king  to  their  Nor- 
man neighbours.  They  were  jealous  of  the  freedom 
of  their  own  laws,  unfettered  by  feudal  dependence, 
which  gave  an  assembly  of  their  estates,  called 
Wittenagemot,  or  the  Convention  of  Wise  Men, 
a  wholesome  control  over  the  will  of  the  sovereign, 
and  provided  for  the  protection  of  the  lives  and 
liberties  of  the  subjects,  affording  the  groundwork  of 
that  stubborn  and  steady  independence  of  principle, 
which  has  distinguished  the  bulk  of  the  English 
nation  for  so  many  ages. 

They  laughed  at  and  ridiculed  the  affected  refine- 
ments of  the  Normans,  and,  confident  in  their  own 
courage  and  their  own  weapons,  were  willing  to  bid 
defiance  to  those  mail-clad  strangers,  armed  as  they 
were  with  bows  and  arrows,  the  artillery  of  the  period, 
in  which  the  Normans  were  held  to  excel.  These 
missiles  could  not  be  totally  unknown  in  Britain,  but 
the  archers  of  Normandy  were  disciplined,  and  acted 
in  battle  as  a  separate  body.     These  mutual  sub- 


130  DEATH    OF    EDWARD. 

jects  for  scorn  and  jealousy,  spread  dislike  and  hatred 
between  the  English  and  their  Norman  visitors. 

At  the  head  of  the  English,  or  rather  Saxon  in- 
terest, were  the  powerful  Godwin,  Earl  of  Kent, 
and  his  sons.  Under  their  guidance,  the  Norman 
ahens  were  expelled  from  England,  and  the  founda- 
tion of  a  lasting  animosity  laid  between  them  and 
the  Saxons,  or  English.  Edward,  the  reigning  mo- 
narch, retained,  however,  his  partiality  for  his  mo- 
ther's countrymen.  The  address  and  flattery  of  the 
Normans  pleased  a  monarch  who  was  not  a  man  of 
strong  mind,  and  their  habits  of  civil  deportment 
and  feudal  observances  were  acceptable  to  a  prince, 
who  objected  to  the  rude  remonstrances  and  homely 
manners  of  the  Enghsh. 

Edward  maintained  an  intimate  correspondence 
with  William,  Duke  of  Normandy,  and  appears  to 
have  formed  a  plan  of  bequeathing  to  him  his  king- 
dom of  England.  This  was,  no  doubt,  a  great 
infringement  of  the  laws,  which  assigned  the  king 
only  a  life  interest  in  his  kingdom  ;  and  besides, 
by  such  a  bequest  the  reigning  monarch  did  his 
utmost  to  disinherit  the  real  heir  of  England,  Edgar 
Atheling,  in  favour  of  an  illegitimate  Norman,  who, 
though  connected  with  the  Confessor's  Norman 
relations,  (for  Edward's  mother  Emma  was  aunt  to 
Duke  William's  father,)  yet  had  not  a  drop  of  Eng- 
lish blood  in  his  veins.  But  the  youth  Edgar,  who 
had  the  lawful  title  of  succession  to  the  crown,  was 
absent  in  Hungary  ;  and  the  conduct  of  Edward,  if 
not  blameless,  was  at  least  excusable  in  a  well- 
meaning,  but  weak  monarch. 

Upon  the  death  of  Edward,  Harold,  one  of 

i(m  ^^®  ^^^^  ^^  ■'^^^^  Godwin,  conscious  both  of  his 

own    great    power,   extensive   influence,   and 


ACCESSION    OF    HAROLD.  131 

known  character  for  sagacity  and  courage,  resolved 
to  disregard  alike  the  claim  of  Edgar  Athehng,  the 
lawful  successor  to  the  crown,  and  that  which  was 
preferred  by  a  more  formidable  competitor,  William 
Duke  of  Normandy.  It  is  true,  that  Harold,  being 
driven  ashore  on  the  coast  of  Normandy,  had  taken 
an  oath  to  favour  the  pretensions  of  Duke  William 
to  the  English  throne,  after  the  death  of  Edward 
the  Confessor  ;  but  he  denied  that  such  an  oath  was 
binding,  having  been,  as  he  alleged,  forcibly  com- 
pelled to  take  it.  He  availed  himself,  therefore,  of 
his  extensive  influence  with  the  English  nobles, 
obtained  the  office  of  king  by  a  grant  from  the 
assembled  nobility,  assumed  the  crown,  and  was 
consecrated  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

But  the  throne  which  Harold  had  thus  taken  pos- 
session of,  was  menaced  from  three  powerful  quar- 
ters. The  first  was  his  own  brother  Tosti ;  the 
second  was  Harold  Hardrada,  King  of  Norway,  a 
veteran  warrior,  who  threatened  instant  invasion  ; 
the  third  was  William,  Duke  of  Normandy,  who 
founded  his  claim  on  the  alleged  bequest  of  Edward 
the  Confessor,  and  on  the  oath  of  Harold  to  support 
it.  Of  these  dangers,  the  third  is  best  deserving  oi 
consideration. 

William  of  Normandy,  though  an  illegitimate  son, 
had  succeeded  to  the  Dukedom  of  Normandy  as 
the  inheritance  of  his  father,  and  had  been  engaged 
during  his  youth  in  so  many  disputes  and  wars, 
both  with  his  own  insurgent  nobility,  and  with  his 
liege  lord,  the  King  of  France,  that  his  understand- 
ing was  matured  and  his  authority  confirmed,  so  as 
to  give  him  confidence  to  embark  in  the  daring  ex- 
pedition which  he  meditated,  being  nothing  less  than 
the  conquest  of  a  kingdom,  containing  dominions 


132  INVASION    OF    ENGLAND. 

far  more  extensive,  and  a  population  much  more 
mmierous,  than  his  own. 

He  was  encouraged  in  this  daring  attempt  by  the 
undaunted  valour  so  pecuhar  to  his  Norman  sub- 
jects, and  which  they  had  displayed  in  such  despe- 
rate adventures  as  those  of  Robert  Guiscard  and 
his  brethren.  If,  he  might  argue,  the  sons  of  a 
simple  knight,  who  led  a  petty  band  of  ten  lances, 
had,  by  their  indomitable  valour,  rendered  their 
small  resources  available  to  gain  great  battles,  and 
establish  fair  principalities,  v»hat  effects  might  not 
be  expected  from  an  army  composed  entirely  of 
Norman  warriors,  and  headed  by  their  duke  him- 
self? Still,  however,  the  forces  of  Normandy  bore 
a  fearful  disproportion  to  those  of  the  kingdom 
which  he  purposed  to  invade  ;  and  Duke  Willianr 
strove  to  balance  the  superiority  by  every  means  iit 
his  power. 

For  this  purpose,  he  availed  himself  of  his  rela- 
tion to  Baldwin,  called  the  Pious,  Count  of  Flan- 
ders, whose  daughter  he  had  married.  Baldwin 
was  Regent  of  France  during  the  minority  of  Philip 
the  First,  and,  by  his  license  and  management,  the 
Duke  of  Normandy  was  permitted  to  publish 
throughout  France  proposals  to  all  brave  warriors,, 
who  wished  to  gain  honour  or  wealth,  to  join  him  in 
his  present  enterprise.  A  vast  number  of  knights 
and  warriors,  from  different  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
hastened  to  join  an  expedition  of  a  character  so 
peculiarly  seductive  to  the  imaginations  of  the  age, 
and  the  army  of  Normandy  was  augmented,  in  point 
of  numbers,  by  the  addition  of  a  large  proportion  of 
those  in  France  who  were  ambitious  of  obtaining 
fame  in  chivalry. 

Count    Baldwin   has   been,   in  his   capacity   of 


NORWEGIAN    INVASION.       _  133 

Guardian  of  France,  censured  for  affording  the  faci 
lities  which  enabled  a  vassal  of  that  kingdom,  al- 
ready too  powerful,  to  raise  himself  to  a  pitch  of 
equality  with  his  liege  lord,  as  was  the  final  conse- 
quence of  this  expedition.  But  the  issue  of  so 
dubious  an  attempt  might  have  fallen  out  otherwise, 
and  then  the  power  of  Normandy,  instead  of  being 
increased,  must  have  been  broken  by  the  invasion  of 
England.  Besides,  it  must  for  ever  remain  a  ques- 
tion, whether,  in  granting  these  means  of  augment- 
ing the  army  of  William,  Baldwin  did  not  avert  the 
risk  of  a  war  with  Normandy,  at  the  expense  of 
assisting  him  in  a  distant  and  hazardous  enter- 
prise, the  brilliant  success  of  which  could  not  be 
foreseen. 

The  army  which  the  Duke  assembled  for  his 
daring  expedition,  amounted  to  fifty  thousand  horse, 
and  ten  thousand  infantry.  These  were  all  chosen 
men,  and  the  disproportion  between  the  cavalry  and 
infantry  showed  William's  superiority  in  the  force 
which  was  then  held  the  most  effective  part  of  an 
army.  To  transport  this  large  body  of  men,  William 
constructed,  or  assembled,  a  fleet  of  three  thousand 
vessels  ;  and  to  sanctify  his  undertaking,  he  obtain- 
ed the  benediction  of  the  Pope,  who  appears  to  have 
had  little  to  do  with  the  quarrel. 

While  this  cloud  was  gathering  on  the  coast  of 
Normandy,  the  attention  of  Harold  of  England  was 
withdrawn  from  its  progress  by  a  danger  yet  more 
imminent.  His  brother  Tosti,  after  an  attempt  at 
insurrection  which  had  been  easily  subdued,  had  fled 
to  Harold  Hardrada,  King  of  Norway.  This  gi- 
gantic champion  and  valiant  warrior  united  a  large 
army  with   the  followers  of  the  insurgent  Tosti, 

VOL.  I.  12 


134  BATTLE    OF    STAMFORD. 

sailed  up  the  Humber,  gained  several  advantages, 
and  obtained  possession  of  York. 

The  attention  of  Harold  the  Saxon  was  imperi- 
ously summoned  to  this  new  enemy,  against  whom 
he  instantly  marched.  "When  he  arrived  in  face  of 
the  invaders,  he  endeavoured,  by  offering  terms  to 
his  brother  Tosti,  to  induce  him  to  v/ithdraw  from 
his  foreign  ally.  "  But  if  I  accept  these  condi- 
tions," said  Tosti,  "  what  shall  be  the  compensa- 
tion to  the  King  of  Norway,  my  ally  ]" — "  Seven 
feet  of  English  land,"  answered  the  envoy  ;  "  or, 
as  Hadrada  is  a  giant,  perhaps  a  little  more."  On 
these  terms,  the  English  and  Norwegians 
loee!  ^^^^^  off  their  conference,  and  a  dreadful 
battle,  at  Stamford,  near  York,  was  the  con- 
sequence. 

The  armies  fought  with  incredible  valour,  and 
there  was  much  slaughter  on  both  sides  ;  but  Harold 
of  Norway  lost  his  life  and  the  battle,  while  Harold 
of  England,  though  enfeebled  by  the  loss  of  many 
of  his  best  troops,  remained  victorious.  But  he 
was  instantly  called  upon  to  meet  more  formidable 
adversaries  in  William  and  his  army,  who  had  ar- 
rived at  Pevensey.  Unhappily  for  Harold,  far  too 
little  respite  was  allowed  him  to  recruit  his  forces 
after  so  bloody  an  action.  Three  days  only  inter- 
vened between  the  defeat  of  the  Norwegian,  and 
the  arrival  of  William  on  the  English  coast. 

The  Duke  of  Normandy  was  speedily  apprized 
that  Harold  was  approaching  at  the  head  of  an  army 
flushed  with  victory.  William,  who  had  no  rein- 
forcements to  expect,  determined  not  to  avoid  a 
battle.  Harold,  though  he  might  more  prudently 
have  delayed  till  he  recruited  his  diminished  army, 
determined  to  seek  for  an  encounter  without  loss  of 


BATTLE    OF    HASTINGS.  135 

time.     Both  princes  met  on  tiie  fatal  and  memorable 
field  of  Hastings. 

Taillifer,  a  minstrel  of  eminence  at  the  court  of 
the  Duke  of  Normandy,  began  the  fight.  He  sung 
the  war-song  of  Roland,  composed  on  the  victories 
of  Charlemagne.  As  he  advanced,  he  played  tricks 
with  his  sword,  which  he  brandished  in  the  air,  toss- 
ing it  up,  and  again  catching  it  with  his  hand,  to 
mark,  doubtless,  his  calm  courage  and  self-posses- 
sion. In  this  manner,  he  rushed  on  the  Saxon 
ranks,  killed  two  men,  and  v/as  himself  slain  by  a 
third.  The  battle  then  joined  with  incredible  fury. 
The  Saxons,  or  English,  were  chiefly  drawn  up  in 
one  solid  mass,  impenetrable  by  cavalry. 

No  effort  of  Duke  William's  brilliant  chivalry, 
though  led  on  by  himself  in  person,  had  the  least 
effect  upon  this  unbroken  phalanx.  At  length  a 
military  stratagem  accomplished  what  mere  force 
failed  in.  A  body  of  a  thousand  Norman  horse 
charged  the  English  with  apparent  fury,  but  retreat- 
ing in  well-dissembled  panic,  induced  a  considerable 
part  of  their  enemies  to  quit  their  ranks  in  pursuit. 
Those  who  thus  broke  their  array  were  cut  off  by 
the  Norman  main  body,  as,  aware  of  the  stratagem, 
they  endeavoured  to  regain  their  ranks.  But  the 
encounter  continued  obstinate.  In  this  dreadful 
battle,  which  was  to  decide  the  fate  of  England, 
the  Normans  derived  great  advantage  from  their 
skill  in  the  long-bow. 

At  length  Duke  William  directed  his  archers, 
instead  of  shooting  their  arrows  horizontally  against 
the  faces  of  the  English,  to  discharge  their  volleys 
into  the  air,  so  that  they  might  come  down  upon  the 
heads  of  the  Saxon  phalanx  with  accumulated  weight 
and  effect.     This  species  of  annoyance  did  much 


136  nor:ian   conquests. 

mischief  among  the  more  distant  ranks,  on  whom 
they  descended  Hke  hail.  One  shaft,  more  fortu- 
nate than  the  rest,  decided  the  obstinate  battle,  by 
striking  Harold  in  the  face,  and  piercing  through  his 
eye  into  the  brain. 

The  death  of  Harold  terminated  a  conflict,  one 
of  the  most  obstinate,  as  it  was  the  most  important, 
in  the  annals  of  England.  The  immediate  success 
of  William's  expedition  was  insured  by  the  death  of 
the  English  monarch  ;  for,  by  submission  or  force, 
the  Conqueror  annexed  to  his  dominions  the  whole 
kingdom  of  England  ;  and  though  vexed  by  repeat- 
ed rebeUions  among  his  new  subjects,  and  even 
among  the  Normans  themselves,  disappointed  with 
the  share  of  spoil  assigned  them,  he  held,  neverthe- 
less, with  a  firm  grasp,  the  advantages  which  he 
had  gained  by  his  wisdom  and  courage. 

It  is  impossible  to  return  to  the  history  of  France, 
from  which  this  is  a  digression,  without  pausing  to 
consider  the  effect  of  the  Norman  conquest,  not 
only  in  its  more  immediate,  but  after  consequences. 
The  immediate  consequence  was,  that  the  conquer- 
ed Saxons  became,  speaking  generally,  the  serfs, 
or  bondsmen,  of  the  victorious  Normans,  and  that 
the  conqueror  distributed  his  new  acquisitions  of 
territory  among  the  valiant  partners  of  his  enter- 
prise. In  many  cases,  some  colour  of  right  was 
given  to  this  partition,  as  where  a  Saxon  maiden, 
who  had  succeeded  a  father  or  brother  slain  at  Has- 
tings, or  elsewhere,  in  some  large  inheritance,  was 
bestowed  in  marriage  by  the  conqueror,  on  one  of 
his  fortunate  and  favored  companions  in  arms. 
More  frequently,  the  estates  of  Saxons  of  high  birth 
and  great  property,  were  forfeited  for  alleged  insur- 
rection against  their  now  masters. 


FOREST     LAWS.  137 


Upon  the  whole,  the  system  of  feudal  law  was 
introduced  into  England  by  the  conquest,  and  the 
Norman  knights  and  nobles  received  grants  of  the 
richest  manors  and  baronies  of  the  crown,  to  be  held 
of  the  king  by  military  service.  These  they  again 
granted  in  smaller  portions,  to  be  enjoyed  by  men 
chiefly  of  their  own  country,  who  should  depend  on 
them,  as  they  upon  the  monarch.  Such  part  of  the 
land  as  the  proprietors  thought  proper  to  retain  for 
their  own  use,  was  cultivated  for  their  advantage  by 
the  Saxon  bondsmen,  the  haughty  Norman  disdain- 
ing to  employ  himself  in  any  occupation  save  that 
of  battle,  tournament,  or  hunting. 

On  the  last  subject,  they  introduced  into  England 
the  severe  and  unjust  laws  of  Normandy  and  France, 
which,  under  the  highest  and  most  disproportioned 
penalties,  reserved  the  pleasure  of  pursuing  the 
chase  to  the  great  vassals  alone.  William  the  Con- 
queror himself  led  the  way  in  his  extravagant  pas- 
sion for  such  amusements  ;  and  the  ruthlessness 
with  which  he  sacrificed  to  his  love  of  silvan  sport 
the  comfort  and  happiness  of  his  new  people,  is 
almost  inconceivable.  In  the  county  of  Hampshire 
alone,  an  immense  woodland  tract  of  sixty-three 
thousand  acres,  still  termed  the  New  Forest,  was 
reduced  to  a  mere  waste,  all  towns  and  dwellings  of 
man,  as  well  as  the  churches  intended  for  the  wor- 
ship of  God,  being  utterly  destroyed,  and  the  district 
reserved  exclusively  for  the  abode  of  wild  animals, 
and  the  exercise  of  hunting. 

Other  laws  peculiarly  vexatious  to  the  lower 
orders  of  English,  were  introduced,  instead  of  the 
mild  government  exercised  by  the  native  Saxon 
monarchs.  The  harassed  natives  were  easily  driven 
into  rebellion,  which  answered  so  far  the  purpose 
12* 


139  ENGLISH    LANGUAGE. 

of  the  Conqueror,  as  it  gave  pretence  for  new  con- 
fiscations, by  which  he  enriched  his  followers.  At 
length  threatened  insurrections  among  the  English 
were  so  general,  and  so  much  suspected,  that  the 
memorable  lawof  Cin/ezw  or  Couvyefeu,  v/as  enacted, 
by  which  all  the  lower  classes  were  compelled  to 
extinguish  their  fires  or  lights  at  the  sound  of  a  bell, 
which  rung  towards  bed  time.  Numerous  Norman 
garrisons,  scattered  over  the  country,  at  once 
secured  to  the  victors  undisturbed  possession  of  the 
land,  and  enforced  the  subjection  of  the  harassed 
inhabitants. 

In  a  word  the  whole  kingdom  of  England  was 
divided  between  the  Normans,  who  were  the  lords 
and  gentry,  and  the  Saxons,  who,  with  a  few  excep- 
tions, became  the  cultivators  of  the  soil.  These 
two  races  did  not  even  enjoy  the  ordinary  means  of 
communicating  together,  for  the  Normans  spoke 
French,  as  well  as  the  king  and  courtiers  ;  the  courts 
of  law  used  the  same  language,  and  the  common 
people  alone  used  or  understood  the  Saxon,  which 
they  employed  in  their  own  affairs. 

This  separation  of  language  lasted  till  about  a 
hundred  years  after  the  Conquest,  when  the  EngHsh 
language  began  to  be  used  by  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  kingdom.  The  gentlemen  were,  in  general, 
acquainted  with  French  also,  but  every  Englishman 
spoke  the  mixed  language,  which  had  been  gradually 
formed  between  the  Norman-French  and  the  Anglo- 
Saxon.  This  is  the  language  which  has  finally 
superseded  the  use  of  all  others  in  England,  the 
language  of  Newton  and  Bacon,  the  language  of 
Milton  and  Shakspeare,  in  which  wisdom  and  genius 
have  achieved  so  much  to  instruct  and  delight  man- 
kind. 


NORMAN    CONaUEST.  139 

The  Norman  Conquest  had  another  beneficial 
consequence,  though  its  effects  operated  slowly. 
We  have  already  said,  that  the  conquerors,  when 
compared  with  the  vanquished,  were  a  race  of  a  civi- 
lized and  refined  character,  who  affected  the  highest 
tone  of  chivalry,  mingled  as  it  was  with  much  that 
was  gallant,  certainly,  and  that  aspired  to  be  lauda- 
ble. It  is  probable,  that  immediately  after  the  battle 
of  Hastings,  this  distinction  in  manners  only  ope- 
rated to  the  disadvantage  of  the  humbled  Saxons, 
whose  rusticity  afforded  their  conquerors  an  addi- 
tional reason  for  oppressing  them,  as  beings  of  a 
lower  grade,  and  beneath  their  regard. 

But  in  time  the  conquerors  and  the  conquered 
began  to  mingle  together  and  assimilate  themselves 
to  each  other ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
refinement  of  the  chivalrous  Normans  extended  its 
influence,  in  part  at  least,  over  the  blunter  and  ruder 
Saxons,  and  introduced  among  them  the  spirit  of 
unblemished  honour  and  uncontaminated  faith,  which 
was  taught  by  the  doctrines  of  chivalry,  if  not  always 
regularly  practised.  On  the  other  hand,  the  blunt 
and  resolute  Anglo-Saxons  preserved  that  sense  of 
their  rights,  and  jealousy  of  their  independence, 
which  has  been  so  long  the  characteristic  of  the 
EngUsh  people. 

It  was,  perhaps,  less  for  the  future  advantage  of 
Britain,  that  in  becoming  part  of  the  dominions  of 
the  Duke  of  Normandy,  the  country  was  necessarily 
involved  in  the  vortex  of  continental  politics  and 
continental  quarrels,  with  which  her  insular  situation 
left  her  naturally  unconnected.  It  is  not  indeed 
unlikely  that  England,  whenever  she  came  to  a  feel- 
ing of  her  own  strength,  might  have  been  induced 
to  take  an  interest  in  the  affairs  of  her  neighbours  ; 


140  WARS    ON     THE    CONTINENT. 

but  it  is  not  improbable  that  her  eyes  would  have 
been  first  turned  to  make  conquests  within  her  own 
shores,  in  which  case  Scotland,  in  all  human  proba- 
bility, must  have  been  completely  and  permanently 
subdued,  and  the  crown  of  all  Britain,  as  well  per- 
haps as  that  of  Ireland,  established  on  the  brow  of 
the  English  monarchs,  ere  they  engaged  in  more 
distant,  more  doubtful,  and  less  politic  hostihties  with 
France. 

But  it  is  in  vain  to  speculate  on  what  might  have 
been.  It  is  sufficiently  evident,  that  the  affairs  of 
France  must  continue  to  interest  the  King  of  Eng- 
land, while  he  occupied  the  fair  duchy  of  Normandy, 
with  several  feudal  rights  over  Bretagne,  which  were 
granted  to  Rollo  along  with  the  dukedom  itself,  as 
part  of  the  dowery  of  the  French  princess  Gisele. 
And  if  the  domestic  security  of  England  was  dis- 
turbed, and  its  internal  security  shaken,  by  her  being 
engaged  in  wars  with  which  she  had  no  real  concern, 
it  was  some  compensation  that  several  brilliant  pages 
were  added  to  her  chronicles,  recording  victories, 
which,  though  fruitless,  and  gained  by  great  sacri- 
fices, contain  noble  proofs  of  EngUsh  valour  and 
magnanimity. 


141 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Philip  I.  of  France  was  not  a  little  piqued  and 
mortified  to  find,  that  by  this  happy  attempt  against 
England,  his  vassal  the  Duke  of  Normandy  had 
started  up  king  of  a  realm  as  ample  and  fair  as  his 
own,  and  which,  though  so  recently  acquired,  and 
disquieted  by  insurrections,  was,  upon  the  whole, 
ruled  by  the  Conqueror  with  more  absolute  sway 
than  France  itself  by  the  descendant  of  Capet. 

Philip  was  determined  to  shake  this  new  empire. 
He  not  only  entered  into  a  war  with  the  King  of 
England,  but  intrigued  with  his  eldest  son  Robert, 
whom  he  encouraged  to  rebel  against  his  father, 
William  the  Conqueror.  The  pretext  assigned  for 
the  French  hostilities,  and  the  unnatural  conduct  of 
the  son,  was,  that  when  William  midertook  his  Eng- 
lish conquest,  he  engaged,  in  case  of  his  being  suc- 
cessful, that  he  would  resign  to  his  son  his  Norman 
dominions.  It  is  probable,  that,  if  such  a  promise 
was  made,  it  was  given  only  to  allay  the  fears  of  the 
French  court  that  William,  by  succeeding  in  his 
expedition,  would  become  too  powerful  a  vassal ;  but 
the  compact  was  agreed  to  without  any  serious 
intention  of  keeping  it. 

At  any  rate,  it  had  become  impossible  for  the 
duke  to  yield  up  Normandy  without  incurring  the  risk 
of  losing  England  also,  since  it  was  only  in  his 
power  to  defeat  the  insurrections  of  the  English  by 
the  aid  of  the  soldiery  which  he  drew  from  his  native 
dominions. 


142         DEATH     OF     WILLIAM    TH£     CONtiUEROR. 

Under  the  pretence,  nevertheless,  that  WilHam 
the  Conquerer  had  failed  in  this  agreement  to  sur- 
render Normandy,  his  son  Robert,  a  rash  young 
man,  and  of  fiery  passions,  though  in  his  person 
brave  and  generous,  actually  rebelled  against  his 
father,  and  held  out  against  him  the  small  fortified 
place  of  Gerberoi,  a  station  very  convenient  for  the 
annoyance  of  Normandy,  and  where  Philip  placed 
his  young  ally  for  that  very  purpose.  William  of 
England,  incensed  at  the  rebellious  conduct  of  his 
son,  hastened  to  lay  siege  to  the  place  of  his  re- 
treat. 

The  garrison  sallied?  headed  by  Prince  Robert  in 
person.  This  leader,  one  of  the  bravest  men  of 
his  time,  singled  out  for  his  antagonist  a  knight  who 
appeared  in  front  of  the  besiegers,  in  armour,  and 
having  his  face  covered  by  the  vizor  of  his  helmet. 
The  onset  of  the  young  and  fiery  prince  bore  down 
his  antagonist,  horse  and  man  ;  and  Robert,  placing 
his  lance  to  the  throat  of  the  dismounted  cavalier, 
would  have  taken  his  life,  had  he  not  recognised,  by 
the  accents  in  which  the  answer  was  returned,  that 
he  was  in  the  act  of  slaying  his  own  father.  Shock- 
ed at  this  discovery,  he  flung  himself  from  his  horse, 
and,  assisting  his  father  to  arise,  held  the  stirrup  to 
him  till  he  mounted  it  in  his  stead. 

But  notwithstanding  an  incident  so  touching  at 
once  and  terrible,  the  reconciliation  between  the 
father  and  son  was  not  perfected.  Robert  still  ex- 
pected that  his  father  would  resign  to  him  some  part 
of  the  Norman  territories,  in  fulfilment  of  the  pro- 
mise said  to  have  been  made  previous  to  his  under- 
taking the  invasion  of  England ;  but  he  continued 
to  expect  in  vain.  The  Conqueror  answered  the 
request  in  homely  but  intelligible  phrase,  that  he 


PROFLIGACY    OF     PHILIP    I.  143 

was  not  willing  to  throw  off  his  clothes  before  he 
went  to  bed,  or  part  with  his  dominions  before  his 
death. 

An  open  war  which  ensued  with  France  cost 
William  his  life.  He  caught  an  inflammatory  com- 
plaint, by  directing  in  person  the  conflagration 
of  the  town  of  Mantes,  and  the  destruction  of  io87.* 
the  country  around.  He  did  all  in  his  power 
to  punish  his  son  Robert  for  his  undutiful  conduct, 
by  bequeathing  the  crown  of  England  to  his  second 
son  William,  called  Rufus,  or  the  Red.  But  although 
incensed  against  his  eldest  son,  William  the  Con- 
querer  left  him  the  duchy  of  Normandy,  chiefly,  it 
is  supposed,  because  he  doubted  whether  the  inha- 
bitants would  submit  to  any  other  prince  than  Ro- 
bert, whom  they  loved  for  his  liberality,  good  nature, 
and  romantic  courage. 

While  these  changes  took  place  in  the  family  and 
dominions  of  his  formidable  vassal  and  rival,  Philip 
I.  of  France  was  engaged  in  petty  wars,  by  means 
of  which,  while  affecting  to  mediate  between  his 
dissatisfied  peers,  he  contrived  to  weaken  both  the 
contending  parties,  and  to  strengthen  the  crown  at 
their  expense.  The  morals  of  this  prince  were  not 
much  more  strict  than  his  political  conscience.  He 
at  length  gave  a  shameful  and  public  instance  of 
profligacy,  by  seizing  upon  the  wife  of  Falk,  Count 
of  Anjou,  called  Rechign^,  or  the  Morose.  To 
eiyoy  her  society,  Philip  parted  with  his  own  wife, 
who  died  of  ill  treatment,  and  during  the  latter  years 
of  his  life,  lived  publicly  with  the  beautiful  Countess 
Bertrade,  for  such  was  her  name. 

The  court  of  Rome  interfered  in  vain,  and  neither 
the  admonitions  of  Pope  or  Council,  though  pro- 
mulgated under  threat  of  excommunication,  which 


144  PH'LIP'S     PREJUDICE. 

was  at  length  actually  pronounced,  could  deter  the 
King  of  France  from  prosecutmg  this  amour.  By 
such  conduct,  the  authority  of  Philip  became  as 
much  degraded  as  his  personal  character.  He  was 
neglected  and  despised  even  by  his  immediate  vas- 
sals ;  and  the  confusion  which  ensued  was  so  great 
as  to  throw  all  France  into  disorder. 

At  length,  the  king  saw  fit  in  some  degree  to 
appease  these  disturbances,  by  associating,  in  the 
ofiice  and  authority  of  Monarch  of  France,  Louis, 
the  remaining  son  whom  he  had  by  his  lawful  queen, 
by  whose  activity  and  judicious  exertions,  tranquil- 
lity was  in  some  measure  restored  to  the  distracted 
kingdom.  This  active  prince  might  be  said  to  do 
all  that  his  father  had  neglected.  He  kept  always 
around  him  a  body  of  determined  men,  with  whom 
he  marched  with  rapidity  against  the  vassals  of  the 
crown,  who  were  perpetually  in  insurrection,  and 
thus  gradually  acquired  general  respect  and  popu- 
larity. 

Ber trade,  in  the  meanwhile,  was  the  only  person 
to  whom  the  young  prince's  conduct  was  unaccepta- 
ble. She  exerted  her  unbounded  influence  over  her 
royal  lover  to  the  prejudice  of  his  son,  on  whose  ex- 
ertions, rather  than  his  own,  the  safe  government  of 
the  kingdom  depended.  When  Louis,  conscious  of 
his  father's  prejudice  against  him,  withdrew  for  a 
while  to  visit  the  court  of  England,  Philip  was  in- 
duced to  write  a  letter  to  the  king  of  that  country, 
instigating  him  to  murder  or  imprison  the  young 
prince.  The  advice  was  rejected  with  disdain  by 
the  King  of  England,  who  dismissed  his  guest  with 
safety  and  honour. 

The  dangers  of  Louis  were  increased  on  his  re- 
turn to  France,  for  poison  was  administered  to  him 


ATTEMPT    TO    POISON     LOUIS.  145 

by  his  father's  concubine,  which  had  so  much 
effect  on  his  constitution,  that  though  he  recovered 
his  health  in  other  respects,  his  complexion  remain- 
ed ever  afterwards  a  deadly  pale.  Louis,  upon 
receiving  this  new  injury,  was  well  nigh  provoked  to 
break  entirely  with  his  father  ;  and  it  is  probable  that 
the  cause  of  the  son  would  have  been  adopted  by 
the  kingdom  in  general,  had  not  Philip  become 
aware  of  his  danger. 

Overcome  by  his  authority,  or  terrified  for  the 
consequences  of  Louis'  resentment,  Bertrade  made 
the  most  humble  submission  to  that  Prince,  suc- 
ceeded in  a  reconciliation,  and  entertained,  or  affect- 
ed, during  her  future  life,  the  utmost  deference,  and 
even  affection  for  Louis,  to  the  extent  of  confiding 
to  him  the  safety  and  support  of  two  children  whom 
she  had  borne  to  his  father.  King  Philip. 

The  troubles  of  France  were  in  some  degree 
allayed  by  the  agreement  between  the  father  and 
son  ;  and  the  latter,  after  this  period,  took  chiefly  on 
himself  the  active  administration  of  the  government, 
while  the  father  continued  to  indulge  in  the  pleasures 
of  luxury  and  retirement  with  Bertrade,  on  whom  he 
doted.  Latterly,  indeed,  he  seems  to  have  recon- 
ciled the  church  to  his  connection  with  her,  since 
she  receives,  in  the  French  annals,  the  title  of  queen, 
and  her  children  are,  at  the  same  time,  spoken  of  as 
legitimate.    . 

The  acquiescence  of  the  Pope  in  this  promotion 
of  the  divorced  Countess  of  Anjou  into  a  legitimate 
Queen  of  France,  was  but  imperfectly  expressed  j 
aiid  was  purchased,  moreover,  by  such  humble  sub- 
mission to  the  papal  see,  as  degraded  the  king  in 
the  eyes  of  his  own  subjects.  Philip  died  at  ^-^ 
the  age  of  sixty,  leaving  his  son  Louis,  with 

VOL.    I.  13 


146  ORIGIN    OF    THE    CRUSADES. 

diminished  resources,  to  struggle  with  all  the  evils 
which  his  father's  weak  government,  and  the  sacri- 
fice of  his  royal  authority  to  his  selfish  love  of  plea- 
sure, had  brought  upon  his  country. 

In  this  age  of  wonderful  events,  not  only  did  such 
revolutions  as  those  produced  by  the  success  of 
Guiscard  and  his  brothers,  as  before  mentioned,  and 
the  conquest  of  England  by  William  of  Normandy, 
astonish  the  world,  but  the  attention  of  all  men  was 
attracted  by  the  Crusades,  a  species  of  war  bearing, 
as  was  pretended,  a  religious  character,  and  calling 
upon  the  Christian  princes,  as  by  a  command  from 
Heaven,  to  give  up  all  private  feuds  and  quai-rels 
among  themselves,  and  move  in  a  body  to  overwhelm 
the  Asiatics.  The  origin  of  these  extraordinary 
wars  arose,  as  great  events  often  do,  from  the  efforts 
of  a  single  individual,  which  happened  in  a  remarka- 
ble degree  to  concur  with  the  peculiar  opinions  and 
manners  of  the  age. 

I  have  told  you  that  the  devotional  journeys  called 
pilgrimages,  to  the  tombs  of  the  religious  persons 
mentioned  in  Scripture,  or  the  places  where  they  had 
wrought  their  miracles,  were  accounted  in  those 
times  meritorious  displays  of  piety,  the  performance 
of  which,  by  the  tenets  of  the  Catholic  Church,  was 
held  the  surest  and  most  acceptable  mode  of  averting 
the  wrath  of  Heaven  for  past  transgressions,  or  ex- 
hibiting gratitude  for  mercies  received. , 

Men  who  were  in  difficulties  or  in  dangers,  often 
made  a  vow,  that  in  the  event  of  their  being  extri- 
cated, they  would  make  a  journey  to  some  sanctified 
shrine  in  Italy  or  in  Palestine,  and  there  testify  thfeir 
sense  of  the  protection  of  Heaven,  by  alms,  prayers, 
and  gifts  to  the  church.  The  Holy  Sepulchre  itself, 
of  which  the  site  was  handed  down  by  tradition,  was 


PILGRIMAGES  TO  THE  HOLY  LAND.     147 

naturally  a  principal  object  of  these  religious  voy- 
ages, as  best  entitled  to  the  respect  and  adoration  of 
mankind. 

While  Palestine,  or  the  Holy  Land,  remained  a 
part  of  the  Grecian  empire,  the  approach  of  the 
European  pilgrims  to  the  holy  places  which  they 
desired  to  visit,  was  naturally  facilitated  by  every 
means  in  the  power  of  the  Christian  governors  of 
the  provinces  where  they  lay,  and  of  the  priests  to 
whose  keeping  the  places  of  sanctity  were  commit- 
ted. Their  churches  were  enriched  by  the  gifts 
which  failed  not  to  express  the  devotion  of  the  pil- 
grims, and  the  vanity  of  the  priests  was  flattered  by 
the  resort  of  so  many  persons  of  consequence  from 
the  most  distant  parts  of  Christendom,  to  worship  at 
their  peculiar  shrines. 

Even  when,  in  the  course  of  the  tenth  century, 
the  Holy  Land  fell  under  the  power  of  the  Saracens, 
that  people,  infidels  as  they  were,  felt  their  own 
interest  in  permitting,  under  payment  of  a  certairi 
capitation  tax,  the  concourse  of  European  pilgrims 
to  Jerusalem,  and  other  places  which  they  account- 
ed sacred.  Stimulated  by  love  of  wealth,  the  Ma- 
hometan possessors  of  Palestine  made  the  access 
tolerably  easy  to  the  devout  men  who  desired  to 
travel  thither,  so  long  as  the  pilgrims  were  not  un- 
willing to  pay  the  tolls  with  which  it  was  guarded. 

In  their  intercourse  with  Christian  princes  of 
eminence,  the  Califs,  or  successors  of  Mahomet, 
derived  a  certain  consequence  from  being  masters 
of  Jerusalem ;  and  Haroun  Alraschid,  one  of  the 
most  important  of  those  princes,  found  no  more  ac- 
ceptable compliment  to  conciliate  Charlemagne, 
with  whom  he  maintained  a  friendly  intercourse, 
than  to  send  to  the  Frank  Emperor  the  keys  of  the 


148  ORIGIN    OF    THE    CRUSADES. 

Holy  Sepulchre.  But  when  the  power  of  the  Sara- 
cens was  in  a  great  measure  divided  or  destroyed, 
and  the  Turks,  also  followers  of  Mahomet,  but  a  far 
more  rude  and  fanatical  race,  became  masters  of 
Jerusalem,  the  treatment  of  the  Christians,  whether 
natives  of  Palestine,  or  pilgrims  who  came  to  wor- 
ship there,  was  in  every  respect  different. 

The  Saracens,  a  civihzed  and  refined  people 
compared  with  the  Turks,  had  governed  the  country 
under  fixed  rules  of  tribute,  and  preferred  the  mode- 
rate, but  secure  profit,  derived  from  the  taxes 
imposed  on  the  pilgrims,  to  that  which  might  be  at- 
tained by  a  system  of  robbery,  plunder,  and  ill  usage, 
by  which  the  devotees  were  likely  to  be  at  length 
compelled  to  desist  from  their  religious  duties.  But 
the  Turks,  a  fiercer,  more  bigoted,  and  more  short- 
sighted race,  preferred  the  pleasure  of  insulting  and 
maltreating  Christians  whom  they  contemned  and 
hated,  and  not  only  harassed  them  by  the  most  ex- 
orbitant exactions,  which,  when  paid,  did  not  secure 
freedom  to  the  oppressed  Frank  to  discharge  his 
religious  duty,  but  often  added  personal  ill  usage  to 
the  demand  of  extravagant  tribute. 

In  short,  with  or  without  the  authority  of  their 
superiors,  every  paltry  Turkish  officer  robbed,  im- 
prisoned, and  slew  the  Christians  at  his  pleasure ; 
and  an  act  of  pilgrimage,  in  itself  perilous  and  ex- 
pensive, was  rendered  frequently  an  introduction  to 
martyrdom.  The  clergy  of  the  Christians  were  in- 
sulted, stripped,  and  flung  into  dungeons ;  nor  was  any 
circumstance  omitted  by  the  savage  masters  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre,  which  could  show  the  pilgrims  a< 
how  great  hazard  they  must  in  future  expect  per 
mission  to  pay  their  homage  there. 

These  evils  had  been  sufficiently  felt  by  all  who 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CRUSADES.  149 

had  visited  the  East,  but  at  length  they  made  so 
strong  an  impression  on  the  spirit  of  one  single 
than,  that,  like  fire  alighting  among  materials  highly- 
combustible,  the  flame  spread  throughout  all  Eu- 
rope. The  person  who  effected  so  strong  a  sensa- 
tion by  so  slight  means,  was  Peter,  called  the  Her- 
mit. He  was,  we  are  informed,  of  a  slight  and 
indifferent  figure,  which  sometimes  exposed  him  to 
be  neglected  ;  but  he  was  a  powerful  orator.  He 
had  himself  been  a  pilgrim  in  Palestine,  and  pos- 
sessed the  impressive  requisite  that  he  could  bear 
testimony  as  an  eye-witness  to  the  atrocities  of  the 
Turks,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  Christians. 

He  repaired  from  court  to  court,  from  castle  to 
castle,  from  city  to  city,  setting  forth  at  each  the 
shame  done  to  Christendom,  in  leaving  the  holiest 
places  connected  with  her  religion  in  possession  of 
a  heathen  and  barbarous  foe.  He  appealed  to  the 
religion  of  one  sovereign,  to  the  fears  of  another,  to 
the  spirit  of  chivalry  professed  by  them  all.  Urban 
II.,  then  Pope,  saw  the  importance  of  uniting  the 
European  nations,  soldiers  by  habit  and  inclination, 
in  a  task  so  honourable  to  religion,  and  so  likely  to 
give  importance  to  the  Roman  See. 

At  the  council  of  Clermont,  ambassadors  from 
the  Grecian  emperor  were  introduced  to  the  assem- 
bly, who,  with  humble  deference,  stated  to  the  pre- 
lates and  the  lay  chivalry  of  Europe  the  dangers  to 
their  Christian  sovereign,  arising  from  the  increas- 
ing strength  of  the  Moslem  empire,  by  which  he  was 
surrounded,  and,  forgetting  the  wordy  and  assuming 
language  which  they  were  accustomed  to  use,  sup- 
plicated, with  humiUating  earnestness,  the  advantage 
of  some  assistance  from  Europe. 

The  pontiff"  himself  set  forth  the  advantage,  or 
13* 


160  COUNCIL    or    CLERMONT. 

rather  necessity,  of  laying  all  meaner  or  more  wordly 
tasks  aside,  until  the  holy  sepulchre  should  be  freed 
from  the  heathen  usurpers,  who  were  its  tyrants. 
To  all,  however  criminal,  who  should  lend  aid  to 
this  holy  warfare.  Urban  promised  a  full  remission 
of  their  sins  here,  and  an  indubitable  portion  of  the 
joys  of  heaven  hereafter.  He  then  appealed  to  the 
temporal  princes,  with  the  enthusiastic  quotation  of 
such  texts  of  Scripture  as  were  most  likely  to  in- 
flame their  natural  valour.  "  Gird  on  your  swords," 
he  said,  "  ye  men  of  valour  ;  it  is  our  part  to  pray, 
it  is  yours  to  fight.  It  is  ours,  with  Moses,  to  hold 
up  our  hands  unremittingly  to  God,  it  is  yours  to 
stretch  out  the  sword  against  the  children  of 
Amalek. — So  be  it."  The  assembly  answered,  as 
to  a  summons  blown  by  an  archangel, — "  It  is  the 
will  of  God— it  is  the  will  of  God  !" 

Thousands  devoted  themselves  to  the  service  of 
God,  as  they  imagined,  and  to  the  recovery  of 
Palestine,  with  its  shrines,  from  the  hands  of  the 
Turks.  Each  devoted  himself  to  the  prosecution 
of  this  holy  undertaking,  by  cutting  the  form  of  a 
cross  upon  the  shoulder  of  his  cloak,  being  of  a  dif- 
ferent colour  from  that  of  the  garment  itself,  which 
was  the  especial  form  by  which  these  soldiers  of 
Heaven  announced  their  being  enlisted  in  the  Holy 
War.  The  undertaking  was  thence  called  a  crusade, 
and  those  who  joined  its  ranks  were  termed  cru- 
saders. The  eagerness  with  which  all  men  assum- 
ed this  holy  symbol  was  such,  that  some  of  the 
princes  cut  their  robes  to  pieces,  to  furnish  crosses 
for  the  multitudes  around. 

The  extraordinary  proceedings  at  the  council  of 
Clermont  were  circulated  with  such  amazing  celerity, 
as  made  those  be  believed  who  affii  j.ned  that  the  re- 


CRUSADERS  LED  BY  PETER.         151 


port  of  this  general  movement  was  heard  and  known 
among  distant  nations,  even  on  the  very  evening  of 
the  day  of  council.  But  without  listening  to  what 
is  incredible,  it  is  certain  the  news  of  the  crusade 
was  every  where  spread  through  the  Christian  world 
with  unexampled  speed,  and  every  where  received 
with  the  utmost  interest  and  applause. 

The  number  who  assumed  the  Cross,  or,  in  other 
words,  pledged  themselves  to  the  Holy  War, 
amounted  probably  to  half  a  -milhon  of  individuals 
at  least.  A  very  great  proportion  of  this  multitude 
were  ignorant  men,  unaccustomed  to  warfare,  and 
unacquainted  with  the  slightest  precautions  either  in 
the  field  of  battle,  or  on  the  far  more  complicated 
subjects  of  marches  and  halts  which  were  to  be 
agreed  on,  and  provisions,  which  were  to  be  got  in 
readiness.  We  may  form  some  idea  of  the  low  rank 
from  which  these  men  were  gathered,  when  we  see, 
that  although  the  strength  of  every  army  at  the  time 
consisted  in  cavalry,  this  miscellaneous  rout,  though 
composed  of  many  thousand  infantry,  contained 
only  eight  horsemen. 

It  is  no  wonder,  says  an  historian,  that  a  bird 
having  wings  so  short,  with  a  train  of  such  dispro- 
portioned  length,  should  not  take  a  distant  flight. 
The  enthusiasm  of  these  ignorant  and  rash  plebeians, 
who  formed  a  mob  rather  than  a  regular  army,  and 
observed  no  rule  of  warfare,  was  so  great,  that  they 
accounted  the  slighest  precaution  not  only  unneces- 
sary, but  even  an  actual  insult  to  Heaven,  as  in- 
ferring a  doubt  that  Providence  would  provide  and 
protect  the  soldiers  who  had  voluntarily  enlisted 
themselves  in  this  holy  cause. 

This  tumultuary  rabble,  accordingly,  did  not  wait 
for  the  great  princes  and  leaders  who  had  engaged 


152  MARCH    OF    THE    CRUSADERS. 

in  the  same  expedition,  but  resolved  to  set  out  on  the 
journey  by  themselves.  To  insure  divine  protec- 
tion, they  placed  Peter  the  Hermit  himself  at  their 
head.  But  neither  his  guidance,  nor  the  military 
skill  of  his  lieutenant,  a  valiant  but  needy  knight, 
called  Walter  the  Pennyless,  owing  to  his  ordinary 
state  of  poverty,  were  adequate  to  the  management 
of  a  numerous  and  disorderly  host,  who  rushed,  so 
wretchedly  provided,  on  a  march  of  many  thousand 
miles. 

These  leading  squadrons  were  followed  by  im- 
mense bands,  composed  of  similar  materials,  as 
giddy  in  their  expectations,  as  wild  in  their  senti- 
ments, and  as  irregular  in  their  discipline,  as  the 
host  of  the  Hermit.  Their  leaders  were,  a  barba- 
rous and  ignorant  man  called  Gotteschalk,  a  Ger- 
man monk,  and  Emmicho,  a  tyrannical  Rhine-Graf, 
or  count,  who  had  demesnes  on  the  Lower  Rhine. 
Their  followers  were  chiefly  collected  in  the  same 
countries,  which  have  been  found  in  latter  times  pe- 
culiarly accessible  to  enthusiasm. 

Some  of  them  formed  the  unhappy  idea,  that,  in 
order  to  expect  success  over  the  heathen  in  Pales- 
tine, it  might  be  a  good  omen  to  begin  with  the 
destruction  of  the  descendants  of  the  Jews,  the  an- 
cient inhabitants  of  the  Holy  Land.  They  murder- 
ed many  of  these  unhappy  people,  who  were  the 
merchants  and  factors,  by  whom,  in  these  wild 
times,  the  necessary  commerce  between  distant 
countries  was  conducted.  Their  wealth  invited  the 
murders  and  spoilation  which  their  unbelief  render- 
ed, in  the  eyes  of  the  crusaders,  not  only  venial,  but 
meritorious. 

When  this  tumultuous  army  had  traversed  Ger- 
many, divided  as  it  were  into  separate  billows  of  the 


DISASTERS    OF    THE    HERMIT's    ARMY.        l63 

same  advancing  ocean,  and  committing  in  their  pro- 
gress unheard  of  disorders,  they  at  length  reached 
Hungary,  then  inhabited  by  the  remains  of  the  Huns 
and  Bulgarians.  These  fierce  people,  though  pro- 
fessing the  Christian  faith,  finding  that  the  military 
pilgrims  spoiled  their  villages,  and  seized  their  pro- 
visions, took  arms  against  them  without  hesitation, 
and  availing  themselves  of  the  swamps  and  difficult' 
passes  of  their  country,  destroyed  so  many  of  the 
crusaders,  that  only  about  one-third  of  the  original 
host  of  the  Hermit  Peter  escaped  into  the  Greek 
territories. 

Here  the  Emperor  Alexius,  though  somewhat 
surprised,  doubtless,  at  the  miserable  appearance  of 
this  vanguard  of  his  Western  auxiliaries,  relieved 
their  wants,  and  endeavoured  to  prevail  on  them  to 
wait  for  reinforcements  from  Europe.  But  when 
they  had  once  attained  the  eastern  side  of  the  Bos- 
phorus,  to  which  the  policy  of  Alexius  had  hastily 
transported  them,  the  enthusiasm  of  this  tumultuous 
host  again  induced  them  to  rush  on  their  own  de- 
struction. 

They  entered  Asia  Minor,  and  SoHman,  the  sul- 
tan of  Antioch,  decoyed  these  ignorant  warriors  into 
the  plains  of  Nice,  where  they  fell  beneath  the 
arrows  of  the  light  armed  Turks,  and  by  diseases  of 
the  climate.  In  these  tumultuary  proceedings,  three 
hundred  thousand  champions  of  the  Cross  lost  their 
lives,  before  the  kings  and  nobles  of  Europe,  who 
had  tak^n  the  same  vows  with  these  over-hasty  de- 
votees, had  been  able  to  accomplish  their  prelimi- 
nary preparations. 

We  are  to  suppose,  naturally,  that  men  of  high 
rank,  versed  at  least  in  the  art  of  war,  and  in  some 
degree  acquainted  with  politics  as  they  then  existed, 


154    CRUSADE  OF  EUROPEAN  MONARCHS. 

if  foolish  enough  to  be  forced  into  such  an  underta- 
king, which  indeed  the  universal  enthusiasm  ren- 
dered it  difficult  for  them  to  avoid,  would  not  yet 
neglect  the  usual  precautions  to  ensure  success,  nor 
expect  that  provisions,  the  means  of  transportation, 
or  other  absolute  necessaries  for  the  success  of  their 
expedition,  would  be  furnished  by  a  succession  of 
miracles. 

Accordingly,  when  the  storm  of  destruction  had 
commenced  among  those  disorderly  bands  which 
marched  under  Peter  the  Hermit,  Gotteschalk, 
Emmicho,  and  other  incapable  persons,  there  re- 
mained behind  a  well  disciplined  host,  selected  out 
of  the  four  principal  nations  of  Europe,  whose  lead- 
ers may  be  briefly  mentioned. 

I.  The  French  chivalry  took  the  Cross  with  all 
the  eagerness  of  their  national  character,  and  are 
supposed  to  have  sent  as  many  adventurers  as  all 
Europe  besides.  Philip,  their  king,  immersed  in 
pleasures,  and  unable  to  separate  himself  from  his 
favourite  Bertrade,  evaded  taking  the  engagement ; 
but  his  best  soldiers  followed  the  steps  of  Hugo, 
called  the  Great,  brother  to  Philip,  and  of  Godfrey 
of  Boulogne,  called  Duke  of  Brabant,  who  for  his 
wisdom  and  bravery  was  afterwards  chosen  chief  of 
the  crusade. 

This  last  distinguished  leader  was  accompanied 
by  his  brothers  Baldwin  and  Eustace.  Stephen, 
Earl  of  Blois,  father  to  that  Stephen  who  was  after- 
wards King  of  England,  Raymond,  Earl  of  Tou- 
louse, Robert,  Earl  of  Flanders,  Hugh,  Earl  of  Saint 
Paul,  and  Baldwin  de  Burgh,  princes  of  high  rank, 
and  warriors  of  great  fame,  engaged  in  this  expedi- 
tion with  bands  of  followers  becoming  their  birth 
and  reputation. 


CRUSADE  OF  EUROPEAN  MONARCHS.    155 

II.  Italy  sent  some  distinguished  soldiers  ;  among 
others  Bohemund,  prince  of  Tarentum,  with  his 
nephew  Tancred,  both  worthy  descendants  of  the 
Norman  stock  of  Guiscard,  put  to  sea  at  the  head  of 
twelve  thousand  men.  The  flower  of  the  soldiers  of 
the  northern  provinces  of  Italy  also  took  the  Cross. 

III.  England  sent  many  barons,  who  arrayed 
themselves  under  Robert,  called  Curthose,  or 
Short-hose,  the  eldest  son  of  William  the  Conque- 
ror, whom  he  had  succeeded  as  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
mandy. He  also  led  a  great  part  of  the  gallant 
Norman  chivalry,  to  win  fame  or  meet  death, 
in  the  eastern  deserts.  Soldiers  from  Scotland, 
Ireland,  and  Wales,  are  supposed  to  have  joined  the 
Enghsh  expedition,  but  in  small  numbers. 

IV.  Of  Germany  we  have  already  spoken,  in 
giving  an  account  of  the  bands  of  common  men 
whom  she  sent  to  the  war.  Her  noblemen  did  not 
take  arms  in  the  same  proportion,  and  as  the  crusa- 
ders marched  through  that  country,  it  is  said  they 
incurred  the  scorn  and  ridicule  of  the  more  solid 
part  of  the  nation,  who  termed  them  fools  for  going 
on  so  idle  an  expedition.  We  will  presently  see 
that  the  Germans  themselves  afterwards  caught  the 
infection. 

Such  was  the  composition  of  the  first  crusade,  a 
formidable  armament,  the  numbers  of  which  are 
represented  as  almost  incalculable.  Its  leaders 
adopted  separate  roads,  for  the  more  easy  collecting 
of  forage  and  provisions,  anc  the  respective  divi- 
sions performed  their  march  wii.  different  degrees  of 
security  or  danger,  corresponding  to  the  sagacity  or 
rashness  of  their  generals.  Hugo,  brother  to  the 
King  of  France,  was  defeated  and  made  prisoner  on 
the  road  by  the  Bulgarians,  and  sent  captive  to  Con- 


156        RECEPTION    BY    THE    GRZF.K     EMPEROR. 

stantinopie.  The  other  divisions  of  the  crusading 
army  firrived  safe  under  the  walls  of  that  city. 

It  was  the  Greek  Emperors  turn  to  be  astonished 
at  the  numbers  and  extent  of  a  host  assembled  from 
all  nations,  and  pouring  v.ith  frantic  eagerness  to- 
wards the  land  of  Palestine  ;  so  that,  as  Anna 
Comnena  happily  expresses  it,  all  Europe  seemed 
loosened  from  its  foundations,  and  in  the  act  of  pre- 
cipitating itself  upon  Asia. 

Alexius,  then  the  Emperor  of  Greece,  and  already 
described  as  a  sagacious  prince  had  expected  that 
the  auxiliary  forces  would  extend  to  no  more  than  a 
moderate  body  of  men-at-arms,  his  confidence  in 
whose  valour  might  make  amends  for  the  smallness 
of  their  numbers,  and  who  for  the  same  reason 
could  not  propose  to  themselves  the  part  of  masters 
instead  of  allies,  or  dictate  laws  to  the  sovereign 
whom  they  had  come  to  assist. 

Instead  of  such  a  moderate  reinforcement,  the 
subtle  and  suspicious  Emperor  of  the  East  now  saw 
himself  begirt  by  armed  legions  from  every  corner 
of  Europe,  speaking  unknown  languages,  sheathed 
in  complete  armour, — iron  men,  in  short,  compared 
to  his  effeminate  Grecians,  owning  no  common  bond 
or  tie,  save  that  of  their  insane  oath,  each  knight 
amidst  their  numbers  holding  the  most  undaunted 
confidence  in  his  own  courage,  and  the  utmost  con- 
tempt for  ail  opposition  which  could  be  offered  to 
his  most  unreasonable  wishes. 

The  reflections  and  apprehensions  of  Alexius 
were  natural  enough  ;  but  a  generous  mind  would 
have  subdued  them,  and  rather  trusted  to  the  honor 
of  the  principal  crusaders,  than  have  undermined 
their  strength  by  indirect  practices,  and  offended 
their  pride  by  showing  a  jealousy  of  their  good  faith. 


OATH  OF  FEALTY  EXACTED.         157 

and  at  the  same  time  a  fear  lor  their  numbers  a.nd 
force.  He  at  first  altogether  refused  to  let  so  great 
a  body  of  armed  men  pass  into  his  Asiatic  dominions, 
even  to  attack  his  enemies  the  Turks.  Nor  did  he 
at  length  grant  the  crusaders  a  free  passage  over  the 
Bosphorous,  which  divides  Europe  from  Asia,  until 
they  would  consent  to  take  an  oath  of  fealty  to  him. 

Godfrey  of  Boulogne,  and  the  other  leaders  of  the 
crusade,  consented  at  length  to  this  unpleasant  and 
jealous  prel'minary,  reconcihng  themselves  to  a  spe- 
cies of  degradation,  rather  than  multiply  the  difBcul- 
ties  of  their  situation,  or  make  an  attack  upon  a 
Christian  emperor  the  first  warlike  action  of  the 
crusade. 

It  was,  however,  with  infinite  difHculty  that  the 
numerous  and  haughty  chiefs  were  induced  to  take 
the  oath  of  fealty.  Robert  of  Flanders  positively 
refused  to  undergo  the  ceremonial,  and  could  by  no 
means  be  brought  to  submit.  Many  of  the  chiefs 
of  the  crusaders  were  only  induced  to  take  the  vow 
to  the  emperor  by  the  large  gifts  which  he  dealt 
among  them,  thus  purchasing  an  apparent  submis- 
sion, to  save  appearances,  and  disguise  the  real  de- 
bility of  the  empire. 

Nay,  the  manner  in  which  the  ceremonial  was 
performed,  showed  the  contempt  which  the  crusa- 
ders entertained  for  the  whole  pageant.  A  French 
count,  called  Robert  of  Paris,  appeared  before  the 
emperor  to  take  the  oath,  with  the  others  of  his  de- 
gree. He  had  no  sooner  performed  the  ceremony 
than  he  sate  down  on  the  same  throne  where  the 
emperor  reposed  in  state,  exclaiming, — ''  What 
churl  is  this  who  sits,  when  so  many  noble  knights 
are  standing  in  his  presence  ?" 

It  may  be  believed  that  no  officer  of  the  emperor 

VOL.   I.  14 


158  ROBERT    OF    PARIS. 

dared  interfere,  but  Baldwin,  brother  of  Godfrey  of 
Boulogne,  took  the  count  by  the  hand,  and  reproach- 
ing him  tor  his  rudeness,  obliged  him  to  rise  from  the 
place  he  had  taken.  The  emperor,  preserving  his 
composure,  asked  the  name  and  quality  of  the  war- 
rior who  had  taken  so  great  a  liberty.  "  I  can  but 
tell  you  this,"  answered  the  Frank,  "  that  in  my 
country  there  is  an  ancient  church,  to  which  those 
desirous  of  proving  their  valour  repair,  fully  armed 
for  battle,  and,  having  gone  through  their  devotions, 
remain  there,  to  abide  the  attack  of  any  adven- 
turous knight  that  may  appear  to  encounter  them. 
At  that  church,  where  three  ways  meet,  have  I  my- 
self abode  for  a  long  space.  But  the  man  lives  not 
in  France  who  dared  answer  my  challenge." 

The  emperor  confined  his  answer  to  the  prudent 
observation,  that  if  the  count  desired  combat,  he 
came  to  the  place  where  he  was  sure  to  get  enough 
of  it,  and  proceeded  to  instruct  the  knight,  who  pro- 
bably cared  but  little  for  his  advice,  in  the  particular 
warfare  of  the  Turks.  This  story  is  told  by  Anna 
Comnena,  daughter  of  Alexius,  who  seems  to  have 
suffered  severely  v.hen  she  sav/  the  august  imperial 
dignity  of  her  father  so  rudely  infringed  upon. 

After  much  time  wasted,  and  many  promises 
made  and  broken  on  the  part  of  the  emperor,  re- 
specting supplies  of  provisions,  wines,  and  other 
necessaries  for  the  army,  the  first  crusade,  trans- 
ported by  the  Greek  shipping  to  the  shores  of  Asia, 
began  seriously  to  enter  upon  their  holy  warfare. 
Nice,  which  was  well  garrisoned  by  the  Turks,  was 
taken  after  a  siege,  and  surrendered  to  the  emperor 
Alexius,  to  whom  it  v/as  a  valuable  acquisition. 

Soliman,  Sultan  of  the  Turks,  more  offended  than 
dismayed  by  the  loss  he  had  sustained,  assembled  a 


BATTLE    OF    DORYL^UM.  159 

very  numerous  army,  amounting  to  from  150,000  to 
200,000  horsemen.  These  hung  round  the  van- 
guard of  the  Christian  host,  and  exhausted  them  by 
constant,  but  desultory  attacks.  The  scorching  sun 
greatly  annoyed  the  northern  people,  whose  com- 
plete coats-of-mail  rendered  the  heat  more  intoler- 
able. The  usual  clang  and  barbarous  sounds  of 
the  Turkish  musical  instruments  disturbed  the 
horses  of  the  Christians  ;  and  in  the  first  general 
battle  between  the  crusaders  and  the  infidels,  the 
former  ran  a  great  risk  of  defeat. 

The  desperate  exertions  of  the  leaders,  at  length 
brought  the  infidels  from  desultory  skirmishes  to 
close  action,  in  which  armour  of  proof,  with  supe- 
rior size  and  strength  of  body,  gave  advantage  to 
the  Europeans.  Bohemund,  Count  Hugo  of  France, 
and  Robert  of  Normandy,  did  wonderful  feats  with 
their  own  hands.  The  latter  slew  three  infidels  of 
distinction,  in  the  face  of  both  armies.  The  Sultan 
Soliman  fled  from  the  bcttle,  which  was  fought  at 
Doryloeum,  in  Phrygia.  The  restoration  of  his  ter- 
ritory, called  Roum,  io  tha  Emperor  Alexius,  as  it 
formed  a  frontier  country  of  importance,  was  the 
means  of  preserving  the  Greek  empire  for  perlxaps 
a  hundred  years  longer  than  it  was  otherwise  likely 
to  have  subsisted. 

But  Alexius  did  not  make  a  politic  use  of  his  ad- 
vantages. Instead  of  assisting  the  Christians  with 
good  faith  and  sincerity,  he  took  a  more  indirect 
course  ;  he  tried  to  pursue  his  own  interest  by 
holding  the  balance  betwixt  the  crusaders  and  their 
enemies  the  Turks,  in  the  vain  hope  that  he  could 
make  success  turn  to  the  one  scale  or  the  other,  at 
his  pleasure. 

The   sieg-o    of   the   celebrated   city   of  Antioch, 


160  CAPTURE  OF  a:;tiocii. 

accompanied  with  dearth  of  provisions,  want  of 
water,  scorching  heat,  and  contagious  diseases,  tried 
the  patience  of  the  mihtary  pilgrims,  and  overcame 
that  of  many.  But  the  crusaders  were  particularly 
scandalized  at  the  defection  of  Peter  the  Hermit, 
who  fled  from  the  camp  rather  than  share  the  severi- 
ties to  which  he  had  been  the  means  of  millions  ex- 
posing themselves.  The  fugitive  was  brought  back 
by  force,  the  rather  that  the  absence  of  this  famous 
preacher  and  prophet  was  deemed  an  evil  omen. 
Antioch  was  at  length  betrayed  into  the  hands  of 
the  crusaders  by  a  Christian  within  the  city ;  but, 
enraged  at  the  hardships  they  had  sustained,  and 
thirsting  for  blood,  the  besiegers  spared,  in  their 
rage,  neither  Christian  nor  Pagan. 

A  very  large  host,  chiefly  of  Persians,  under  an 
Emir  called  Kerboga,  in  vain  advanced  to  re-take 
the  place,  and  avenge  the  slaughtered  Moslemah. 
Their  blockade,  indeed,  reduced  the  late  besiegers 
to  the  state  of  being  themselves  besieged.  Disease 
followed  famine,  men  and  horses  died  in  multitudes. 
A  well-imagined  and  happily-timed  discovery  of  a 
supposed  relic  of  great  sanctity,  restored  the  enthu- 
siasm which  had  sunk  under  bad  fortune  and  suffer- 
ings. The  gates  of  Antioch  were  thrown  open,  the 
crusaders  rushed  out  in  full  confidence  of  victory  ; 
and,  being  seconded  by  a  fancied  apparition  of  Saint 
George,  Saint  Theodore,  and  Saint  Maurice,  they 
totally  dispersed  the  army  of  the  besieging  general, 
which  is  described  as  almost  innumerable.  The 
strong  and  wealthy  city  of  Antioch  was  assigned  as 
the  seat  of  a  principality,  to  be  adjudged  to  Bohe- 
mund,  for  Alexius  declined  to  accept  what  he  was 
conscious  he  had  no  force  to  preserve.  The  route 
to  Palestine  now  lay  open  to  the  crusaders — that 


DEFEAT  OF  KERBOGA.  161 

country  for  which  they  had  abandoned  all  their  other 
prospects  in  life. 

Besides  the  necessity  of  collecting  reinforce- 
ments, and  the  difficulty  of  coming  to  a  determined 
conclusion,  in  cases  where  so  many  opinions  were 
to  be  consulted,  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  the  posses- 
sion of  which  was  the  principal  object  of  the  cru- 
sade, had  of  late  changed  masters,  and  returned 
from  the  possession  of  the  Turks  to  that  of  the 
Saracens  of  Egypt,  who  were  commanded  by  the 
Fatimite  Califs.  The  Saracens,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, had  always  afforded  protection  to  the  western 
pilgrims  during  the  period  when  they  held  posses- 
sion of  the  Holy  City.  It  was,  therefore,  with  some 
reason  that  they  endeavoured  to  persuade  the  cru- 
saders to  put  an  end  to  the  war,  as  being  now  with- 
out a  motive. 

The  Egyptian  ambassadors  stated  to  the  assem- 
bled chiefs,  that  Jerusalem,  which  the  Turks  had 
made  the  scene  of  their  oppressions,  was  now  re- 
stored to  its  lawful  possessors,  the  Saracens,  who 
had  always  given,  and  would  engage  always  to  give 
hospitable  reception,  and  free  access  to  the  objects 
of  their  devotion,  to  all  peaceful  pilgrims  who  should 
desire  to  approach  them  in  moderate  numbers,  and 
without  arms.  The  calif  also  offered  great  and 
splendid  gifts  to  the  chiefs  .of  the  crusade,  to  induce 
them  to  make  peace. 

The  European  leaders  returned  for  answer,  that 
their  vows  engaged  them  to  rescue  the  Holy  Land, 
and  its  capital,  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  from  infidels, 
of  whatever  denomination,  whom  they  should  find  in 
possession  of  it ;  that  they  were  determined  to  re- 
cover the  city  accordingly,  and  would  admit  no 
treaty,  whether  with  Turk  or  Saracen,  or  other  Ma- 
14* 


162  SIEGE    OF    JERUSALEM. 

liometan  whatsoever,  which  had  not  the  absolute 
surrender  of  Jerusalen  for  its  basis. 

At  length  the  remains  of  this  mighty  crusade 
advanced  on  Palestine,  and  besieged  the  holy 
1099"  ^^^y  ^^  Jerusalem,  so  long  the  object  of  their 
hopes,  vows,  and  wishes.  The  place  was 
naturally  strong,  and  was  defended  by  thick  walls 
and  bulwarks,  as  well  as  by  rocks  and  eminences. 
The  crusaders  remaining  fit  tor  service,  out  of  a  host 
which  numbered  its  warriors  by  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands, did  not  amount  to  forty  thousand  men.  Ala- 
din,  lieutenant  of  the  Egyptian  calif,  commanded 
nearly  an  equal  number  of  defenders. 

The  Christians  had,  therefore,  a  difficult  task 
before  them,  especially  as  they  were  in  want  of 
water,  tents,  and  military  engines.  They  at  first 
attempted  to  take  the  city  by  main  force,  and  made 
a  general  assault  on  the  walls  within  five  days  after 
they  sat  dov,ai  before  them  ;  but  being  unprepared 
for  such  service,  they  were  beaten  off  v>'ith  loss  and 
dishonour.  The  siege  was,  however,  pressed  with 
vigour ;  the  chiefs  endured  their  losses  with  firm- 
ness, and  their  experience  discovered  supplies  for 
their  wants. 

Two  wooden  turrets,  constructed  upon  wheels, 
were  formed  by  some  Genoese  workinen,  to  be 
advanced  to  the  wall,  for  the  purpose  of  command- 
ing the  defences.  The  first,  under  command  of 
Raymond  Count  of  Toulouse,  was  set  on  fire,  and 
consumed  by  the  besieged.  The  second  of  these 
engines,  under  the  immediate  superintendence  of 
Godfrey  of  Boulogne,  vv-as,  with  better  fortune, 
rolled  up  to  the  wails,  where,  as  it  overlooked  the 
parapet,  the  arrows  from  the  archers  within  it  cleared 
the  rampart  of  the  defenders.     A  drawbridge  thea 


KINGDOM    Oi'    JERUSALEM.  163 

f  — ^— _-_^__^_________________ 

dropped  between  the  tower  and  the  wall — the  attack- 
ing party  poured  over  it,  and  the  besiegers  obtained 
possession  of  the  city. 

An  indiscriminate  massacre  commenced,  in 
which  many  thousand  Mahometans  were  slain, 
although  resistance  was  entirely  at  an  end.  When 
this  pitiless  slaughter  (which  lasted  three  days)  was 
over,  the  victors,  with  a  devotion  strafigely  con- 
tre^sted  with  their  late  cruelty,  joined  in  a  solemn 
pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  where  loud  hymns 
of  praise,  and  devout  tears  of  penitence,  were  enthu- 
siastically poured  forth  as  an  acceptable  offering  to 
Heaven,  by  the  very  men  whose  hands  were  red 
with  the  blood  spilt  in  an  unprovoked  m.assacre. 

The  country  of  Palestine  followed  the  fate  of 
Jerusalem,  and  the  Christian  leaders  resolved  to 
consummate  their  victory  by  erecting  a  Latin  king- 
dom there,  whose  swords  should  for  ever  defend  the 
Holy  Land,  which  the  valour  of  the  crusaders  had 
now  gained  from,  the  iniidels.  The  crown  of  Pales- 
tine was  refused  by  Robert  of  Normandy  and 
Robert  of  Flanders,  who  might  both  have  made 
pretensions  to  the  sovereignty;  the  more  ambitious 
Bohemund  had  already  settled  himself  in  Antioch, 
and  Baldwin  had,  in  like  manner,  established  him- 
self at  Edessa. 

A  hero  who,  if  only  the  equal  of  these  princes  in 
valour,  and  their  inferior  in  power,  far  excelled  them 
in  moral  qualifications,  and  in  a  true  sense  of  reli- 
gion, was  next  offered  the  crown,  by  the  unanimous 
consent  of  all  who  had  been  engaged  in  the  expedi- 
tion. This  was  Godfrey  of  Boulogne,  the  foremost 
in  obtaining  possession  of  the  city,  of  which  he  was 
now  declared  king.  He  would,  however,  only  ac- 
cept the  title  of  Defender  and  Baron  of  the.  Holy 


164  KINGDOM    OF    JERUSALEM. 

Sepulchre,  and,  from  the  same  spirit  of  devout 
modesty,  he  assumed  a  crown  of  thorns,  instead  of 
gold,  as  the  appropriate  symbol  of  his  authority. 

In  about  a  fortnight  the  prince  was  called  upon  to 
defend  his  newly  conquered  metropolis  against  the 
Calif  of  Egypt,  who  was  advancing  in  person  to 
revenge  its  capture.  They  met  in  the  valley  of  As- 
calon,  where  the  Egyptians  (inferior  to  the  Turks, 
whom  the  Christians  had  hitherto  encountered,  in  the 
knowledge  and  practice  of  war)  received  a  total  de- 
feat. Godfrey  having  thus  established  and  enlarged 
his  new  kingdom,  proceeded  by  the  general  assent  of 
the  most  experienced  persons  who  were  present,  to 
adjust  a  system  of  laws,  called  the  Assize  of  Jerusa- 
lem, in  which  the  constitution  of  the  Latin  kingdom, 
as  it  was  called,  was  adapted  to  the  purest  feudal 
principles. 

In  this  manner  was  established,  and  thus  was  reg- 
ulated, the  kingdom  of  Jerusalem,  which  endured  for 
about  a  century  after  its  establishment  in  the  first 
crusade,  till  its  destruction  by  Saladin  in  1187.  Dur- 
ing the  short  period  of  its  turbulent  existence,  this 
state,  composed  of  so  many  proud  and  independent 
barons,  who  often  refused  obedience  to  the  king  oi' 
their  own  choice,  underwent  so  many  civil  convul- 
sions, as  rendered  their  state  peculiarly  unfit  to 
defend  itself  against  the  Mahometans,  vv'ho  were  per- 
petually bent  upon  recovering  a  territory  which  they 
considered  as  their  own  property.  Various  attempts 
were,  however,  made  to  support  the  Christians  in 
their  defence. 

One  was  by  the  erection  of  two  great  societies,  or 
communities  of  knights,  who  took  upon  them  a  vow 
of  celibacy,  of  poverty,  and  of  obedience  to  their 
spiritual  superiors,  but  were,  in  other  respects»  sol- 


KNIGHTS    TEMPLARS.  165 

diers  sworn  to  defend  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem 
against  the  Pagans. 

This  order  of  military  monks  did  great  service  in 
the  protection  of  the  Holy  Land.  But  when  these 
Templars,  as  they  were  called,  became  wealthy  and 
powerful,  it  appears  their  manners  became  corrupted, 
and  their  morals  dissolute  ;  they  were  also  accused 
of  meditating  enterprises  promising  advantage  to 
their  own  order,  but  threatening  danger  to  lawful 
Christian  monarchs,  and  to  Christianity  in  general ; 
so  that,  under  allegations  partly  proved,  and  partly 
alleged,  the  order,  or  association  of  Templars,  was 
suppressed,  about  the  year  1312,  two  hundred  years 
after  it  had  been  erected. 

The  other  association  of  the  same  kind  was  called 
the  Knights  of  Hospitallers  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem, 
whose  first  vow  was  the  providing  hospitality  for  pil- 
grims,  though,  like  the  Templars,  they  chiefly  devoted 
themselyes  to  military  exploits  against  the  infidels. 
They  did  not  rise  to  the  eminence  of  the  Templars, 
nor  share  in  the  odium  attached  to  them  :  accordingly 
you  will  see  that  the  Knights  of  St.  John,  under  the 
title  of  the  Knights  of  Malta,  continued  their  sworn 
war  against  the  Mahometans  till  a  lato  period. 

But  besides  the  support  of  these  two  warlike  fra- 
ternities formed  for  the  preservation  of  the  Holy 
Land,  the  same  motives  which  had  made  the  powers 
of  Europe  first  engage  in  the  original  crusade,  led  to 
their  forming  similar  expeditions  from  time  to  time, 
to  the  number  of  five,  by  which  great  armies  passed 
into  Asia,  with  the  purpose  to  delay  the  fall  of  Pales- 
tine, or  to  recover  it,  when  lost,  to  Christendom. 
These  must  be  mentioned,  more  or  less  distinctly,  in 
the  course  of  our  story. 

In  the  mean  time,  we  may  conclude  our  history  of 


166  IxNTRIGUES     or    VvILI.lAM    RUFUS. 

the  First  Crusade,  by  mentioning  the  death  of  its  hero, 
A.  D.  Godfrey  of  Boulogne,  v.hose  virtues  and  talents 
1100.  had  succeeded  in  giving  a  temporary  appear- 
ance of  strength  and  consistency  to  the  dominions 
conquered  by  his  valour.  This  event  took  place 
within  a  year  after  the  capture  of  the  city. 


CHAPTER  X. 


While  the  princes  and  barons  of  the  first  crusade 
were  establishing  in  Palestine  the  little  Latin  king- 
dom of  Jerusalem,  various  alterations  took  place  in 
Europe,  by  which  the  rights  of  the  absentees  were 
materially  affected.  No  one  suffered  more  than 
Robert  Duke  of  Normandy.  To  furnish  himself 
forth  for  the  crusade,  this  eldest  son  of  William  the 
Conqueror  had  imprudently  pa\vned  the  duchy  of 
Normandy,  being  the  only  part  of  his  father's  do- 
minions which  had  descended  to  him,  to  his  brother 
WiUiam,  called  the  Red,  King  of  England,  for  a 
large  sum  of  money. 

But  while  Robert  was  employed  in  cleaving  Ma- 
hometan champions  asunder,  and  exhibiting  feats  of 
the  most  romantic  valour,  William  was  privately 
engaged  in  securing  and  rendering  permanent  the 
temporary  interest  which  the  mortgage  gave  him  in 
the  fief  of  the  duchy,  and  it  soon  became  evident, 
that  even  if  Robert  should  be  able  and  desirous  to 
redeem  the  territory,  it  was  not  likely  that  his  more 
powerful  brother  would  renounce  the  right  he  had 
acquired  over  it.     But  the  death  of  William  Rufus 


CHARACTER  OF  HENRY  BEAUCLERK.    167 


brought  into  play  a  third  son  of  the  Conqueror. 
This  was  Heniy,  the  youngest,  whom  his  brothers, 
both  Robert  and  WilHam,  had  treated  with  consider- 
able severity  after  their  father's  death,  and  refused 
him  every  appanage  becoming  his  rank. 

Civil  war  ensued  among  the  brothers,  and  on  one 
memorable  occasion,  Henry  was  besieged  by  his 
two  brethren,  in  the  forti-ess  of  Mount  Saint  Michael, 
and  reduced  to  the  greatest  extremity  for  want  of 
water.  His  distress  being  communicated  to  Robert, 
who  was  always  generous,  he  instantly  sent  him  a 
supply.  William,  who  was  of  a  harder  and  more 
inflexible  disposition,  upbraided  Robert  with  his 
imprudent  generosity.  "  What  else  could  I  do  1" 
answered  the  generous  Norman.  "  He  is  our 
brother.  Had  he  died  for  lack  of  water,  how  were 
we  to  supply  his  loss  ?" 

Upon  the  surrender  of  the  fortress,  however, 
Henry  was  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  private 
individual,  although  his  bravery  was  equal  to  that  of 
either  of  his  brothers  ;  his  sagacity  much  superior, 
and  his  learning,  which  was  uncommon  in  those 
days,  so  considerable,  that  he  obtained  the  name  of 
Beauclerk,  or  Admirable  Scholar. 

William  Rufus  was  killed  accidentally  with  an 
arrow,  while  hunting  in  the  New  Forest,  which  had 
been  so  unscrupulously  formed,  or  enlarged,  by  his 
father  the  Conqueror.  Henry,  being  engaged  in 
the  same  sport  in  a  different  part  of  the  forest,  and 
learning  this  accident  as  soon  as  it  happened,  rode 
in  post-haste  to  London,  and  availed  himself  of 
Robert's  absence  to  procure  his  own  election  to  the 
crown  of  England,  which  was  affirmed  by  Parlia- 
ment. 

Robert,  whose  elder  right  of  inheritance  was  thus 


168  rOPULAR:TV     Ol"     HENRY. 

a  second  time  set  aside,  was  at  this  time  in  Apulia, 
where  his  marriage  with  a  wealthy  heiress  had  sup- 
pUed  him  with  the  means  of  redeeming  his  Dukedom 
of  Normandy.  He  even  preferred  a  title  to  the 
crown  of  England,  which  was  favoured  by  the 
Norman  barons,  the  companions  of  the  Conqueror. 
Henry's  chief  supporters  were  the  English,  who  had 
been  cruelly  oppressed  by  the  first  William,  and 
with  less  form  and  reason  tyrannized  over  by  Wil- 
liam the  Red.  Henry,  on  the  contrary,  attached 
the  nation  to  his  service  and  allegiance,  by  correct- 
ing the  abuses  of  his  father's  and  of  his  brother's 
administration,  and  by  granting  charters,  settling  the 
separate  interests  of  the  vassals  and  superiors  in  the 
fief,  and  thus  placing  both  on  a  legal  and  equitable 
footing. 

This  mitigation  of  feudal  rights  was  peculiarly 
agreeable  to  the  English,  whose  sufferings  had  been 
most  intolerable,  and  accordingly  secured  to  Henry 
the  crown  of  that  kingdom.  The  extension  of 
freedom  was  at  the  same  time  acceptable  to  the 
Normans  ;  and  Henry  began  to  gain  partisans  even 
In  his  brother's  dukedom.  But  the  sudden  return 
of  Robert  from  Apulia,  recalled  to  their  allegiance 
the  wavering  faith  of  his  vassals,  and  put  the  pru- 
dence of  the  great  Norman  barons  to  a  hard  alter- 
native ;  for  in  the  very  probable  event  of  war  be- 
tween the  brothers,  as  most  of  the  followers  of  the 
Conqueror  held  land  in  both  England  and  Nor- 
mandy, their  English  or  their  Norman  fiefs  must 
necessarily  be  exposed  to  confiscation,  according  as 
they  should  side  with  Robert  or  with  Henry.  It 
was  soOn  found,  also,  that  Robert  was  rash  and 
wasteful,  while  his  brother  was  the  wisest  prince  of 
his  time. 


IMPRISONMENT    OF    ROBERT.  169 

A  short  peace,  or  truce,  did  not  prevent  the 
brothers  from  engaging  in  a  war,  which  was  decided 
by  the  battle  of  Tenchebraie,  in  Normandy,  in  which 
Duke  Robert  was,  in  spite  of  the  bravery  he  dis- 
played, defeated  and  made  prisoner.  He  was  thrown 
into  perpetual  imprisonment,  but  allowed  in  his  cap- 
tivity all  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  as  well  as  the 
amusement  he  could  receive  from  minstrels  and 
jugglers.  He  was  pitied,  but  not  regretted,  by  the 
people  of  his  duchy,  who  thought  w^ith  the  old  chro- 
nicle, that  "  he  was  a  prince  of  the  most  undaunted 
courage,  and  had  done  many  famous  things  at  the 
sieges  of  Antioch  and  Jerusalem  ;  but  his  simplicity 
rendered  him  unfit  for  governing,  and  induced  him 
to  listen  to  Hght  and  imprudent  counsellors." 

The  kingdom  of  England  and  the  dukedom  of 
Normandy  being  now  united  in  the  person  of  Henry, 
as  they  had  been  formerly  in  that  of  William  the 
Conqueror,  the  former  prince  became  as  great  an 
object  of  jealousy  to  the  King  of  France,  his  supe- 
rior, as  his  father  had  formerly  been. 

It  was  indeed  contrary  to  the  nature  of  feudal 
dependence,  in  a  correct  sense,  that  the  state  of 
vassalage  should  exist  between  two  princes  of  equal 
power,  because  in  such  a  case,  instead  of  the  holder 
of  the  fief  considering  it  a  benefit,  the  possession  of 
which  formed  an  indissoluble  bond  of  gratitude 
between  the  grantor  and  the  possessor,  he  was,  on 
the  contrary,  apt  to  esteem  himself  more  degraded 
than  enriched  by  the  tenure,  and  his  imagination 
was  eternally  at  work  how  he  might  shake  off*  even 
his  nominal  dependence  on  one  whom  he  probably 
held  his  own  inferior.  There  were,  therefore,  on 
account  of  their  mutual  jealousy,  constant  bicker- 
ings, and  several  actual  wars,  between  Henry  of 

VOL.   I.  15 


170       WAR    BETWEEN    ENGLAND    AND    FRANCE. 

England,  and  Louis,  who,  in  his  latter  years,  ac- 
quired the  surname  of  the  Gross,  from  the  largeness 
of  his  size. 

The  most  formidable  war  which  the  latter  mo- 
narch incited  against  the  King  of  England,  had  for 
its  pretext  the  interest  of  the  youth,  >\  illiam  Clito. 
This  was  the  only  son  of  the  captive  Robert  Duke 
of  Normandy,  in  whose  behalf  the  King  of  France 
not  only  took  arms  himself,  but  instigated  several  of 
the  great  vassals  of  the  crown  to  engage  in  the  same 
cause.  A  very  great  number  of  the  barons  and 
knights  of  Normandy  were  privately  enlisted  in  the 
design  of  placing  the  ducal  coronet,  which  had 
been  his  father's,  upon  the  head  of  a  deserving  son. 

Henry  passed  over  to  Normandy  to  defend  his 
rights  in  that  fair  duchy  against  William  Clito,  his 
nephew,  and  carried  with  him  a  gallant  army  of 
Knglish,  as  well  as  Normans.  Louis,  the  French 
monarch,  at  the  head  of  the  forces  of  the  confede- 
rates of  young  William,  also  known  by  the  name  of 
Longsword,  from  the  weapon  which  he  wielded, 
advanced  towards  Rouen,  and  found  him&elf  unex- 
pectedly in  front  of  the  English. 

Young  Longsword,  well  worthy  of  his  descent, 
and  of  the  formidable  epithet  by  which  he  was 
designated,  charged  the  van  of  the  English  army  so 
fiercely  as  to  throw  them  into  disorder.  But  Henry 
advanced  with  his  own  household  troops,  and  resto- 
red the  engagement.  In  those  days  the  generals 
themselves  always  fought  amongst  the  foremost. — 
W^illiam  Crispin,  a  gallant  knight,  attacked  King 
Henry  personally,  dealing  him  two  strokes  with  the 
sword,  which,  though  repelled  by  the  temper  of  the 
royal  helmet,  yet  beat  the  metal  flat  on  his  head  by 
main  force,  and  caused  the  blood  to  gush  from  nose 


PEACE  BETWEEN  FRANCE  AND  ENGLAND.  171 

and  mouth.  Henry  either  received  timely  succour 
from  a  gallant  Norman  baron  in  his  ranks,  or  else 
struck  Crispin  down  with  his  own  hand.  The  life 
of  the  brave  knight  was  with  difficulty  saved.  The 
French  were  coinpletely  defeated  in  this  action. 

As  the  combatants   were,  many  of  them,  friends 
and  neighbours,  no  great  loss  was  sustained  in  the 
flight ;  and  even  during  the  shock  of  battle,   only 
three  knights  were  slain,  though  many  were  taken. 
The  King  of  France  lost  his  horse  and  his  standard. 
Henry  ransomed  them  from  the  captors,  and  keeping 
the   banner  as  an  honourable  trophy,  returned  the 
steed  to  his  royal  owner,  together  with  that  of  Wil- 
liam Chto,  which  had  been  taken  by  his  son. 
These  courtesies  led  the  way  to  a  peace  highly  ^J20* 
advantageous  and   honourable  to  the  King  of 
England. 

Louis  of  I^ ranee,  at  this  peace,  conceded  a  point 
of  great  consequence  to  the  King  of  England. — 
Henry  had  refused  to  pay  homage  for  Normandy, 
as  had  been  the  custom  of  the  successors  of  RoUo, 
and  of  his  own  father  and  brother,  William  the  Con- 
queror, and  William  the  Red,  and  as  was,  indeed, 
the  just  right  of  Louis  to  demand.  Such  rendering 
of  homage,  said  the  King  of  England,  was  unworthy 
of  a  royal  person. 

Louis  plainly  saw  where  this  pointed,  and  that  it 
was  the  object  of  Henry  to  shake  himself  entirely 
free  of  his  feudal  obedience  ;  and  this  conscious- 
ness had  made  him  more  anxious  to  support  the 
claims  of  William  Clito,  or  Longsword.  But  now, 
finding  the  events  of  war  turned  against  him,  Louis 
reluctantly  consented  that  William,  the  only  son  of 
Henry,  should  be  invested  with  the  fief  of  Normaa 
dy,  and  do  homage  for  that  fief,  although  aware, 


172  iNSUIlRLCTiO.N     Hi    NOR.MANDY. 

doubtless,  that  by  this  transaction  Henry  would  retain 
in  his  own  hands  all  the  power  and  wealth  of  the 
duchy,  while  he  would  escape  the  oaths  and  obliga- 
tions of  the  vassal,  by  the  interposition  of  his  son 
in  this  character. 

But  the  sudden  turns  of  fate  disturb  the  wisest 
plans  of  human  policy.  The  young  prince  Wilham 
of  England  perished  at  sea  ;  with  him  died  the  pro- 
ject of  an  intermediate  vassal  in  the  fief  of  Nor- 
mandy ;  and  so  the  plan  of  accommodation  fell  to 
the  ground.  The  King  of  France,  tempted  by  the 
desolate  situation  of  Henry,  who  was  now  without  a 
son,  renewed  his  intrigues  with  William  Clito.  He 
caused  this  young  prince  to  be  married  to  a  daughter 
of  the  Count  of  Anjou  with  whom  he  received  in 
dowery  the  county  of  Maine. 

Estabhshed  thus  in  a  powerful  seigniory  near  the 
frontiers  of  Normandy,  to  which  his  birth  gave  him 
so  strong  a  title,  William  Clito  found  it  easy  to  form 
once  more  a  great  confederacy  against  Henry, 
among  the  nobles  of  that  dukedom.  The  King  of 
England's  usual  prudence,  mixed  with  a  shade  of 
that  good  fortune  vrhich  prudence  alone  can  render 
availing,  gave  Henry  again  the  ascendency  over  his 
A.  D.  enemies.  He  obtained  a  complete  and  easy 
1124.  victory  over  the  insurgent  nobility,  of  whom 
some  were  made  captives,  and  treated  with  rigour. 

Luke  de  Barre,  a  Norman  knight  of  some  talent, 
was  an  instance  of  this  severity.  He  had  been 
formerly  made  prisoner  by  Henry,  and  generously 
dismissed.  Notwithstanding  this  lenity,  he  not  only 
rebelled  a  second  time  against  the  King  of  England, 
but  had  composed  satirical  ballads  in  ridicule  of  him, 
and  recited  or  sung  them  in  public.  Such  affronts 
excite  more   bitter  resentment  than   real   injuries. 


INSURRECTION     SUPPRESSED.  173 

The  unlucky  poet,  having  fallen  a  second  time  into 
the  hands  of  the  irritated  monarch,  was  condemned 
to  lose  his  eyes.  But  he  struggled  so  hard  with  the 
executioners  who  came  to  carry  the  sentence  into 
force,  that  he  dashed  out  his  brains  against  the  walls 
of  his  dungeon,  and  thus  perished.  Two  other  in- 
s«rgent  nobles  sustained  the  same  doom  of  having 
their  eyes  put  out,  and  others  were  imprisoned. 

Triumphant  in  Normandy,  Henry  now  sought 
revenge  on  the  King  of  France,  and  used  for  this  pur- 
pose the  assistance  of  Henry  V.,  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many, to  whom  Matilda,  the  monarch  of  England's 
only  remaining  child,  had  been  for  some  years  mar- 
ried. The  Emperor  retained  resentment  against 
Louis,  because  he  had  permitted  a  bull,  or  writing, 
by  which  the  Pope  excommunicated  the  Emperor, 
to  be  published  in  his  archiepiscopal  city  of  Rheims. 

He  assembled  an  army  from  the  German  states, 
and  threatened  to  enter  France,  and  burn  Rheims, 
where  he  had  sustained  such  an  affront.  But  the  in- 
vasion of  France  by  a  German  army,  was  not  viewed 
with  indifference  by  the  great  vassals  of  the  former 
country.  Even  the  barons  who  had  private  quarrels 
with  their  monarch  Louis,  or  private  confederacies 
with  Henry  of  England,  acted  as  obedient  vassals 
of  France  upon  this  occasion,  and  Louis  found  no 
difficulty  in  assembling  during  this  emergency  an 
army  of  two  hundred  thousand  men.  To  give  them 
additional  ardour  in  this  great  national  conflict,  we 
hear,  for  the  first  time,  in  this  war,  of  the  Oriflamme, 
or  Great  Standard  of  France,  being  displayed. 
This  was  a  flag  of  crimson,  attached  to  a  gilded 
lance,  from  which  it  drew  its  name,  which  implies  a 
golden  flame.  The  Emperor  Henry,  unprepared  to 
encounter  such  an  army,  retired  before  the  Ori» 
15* 


174  MATILDA    CROn'NED. 


flamme,  and  the  immense  body  of  men  assembled 
around  it. 

Louis  would  then  willingly  have  employed  so  gal- 
lant a  host  in  driving  the  King  of  England  out  of 
Normandy,  and  settling  William  Clito  in  that  pro- 
vince. But  the  great  vassals  of  France,  whose  re- 
tainers formed  the  greater  part  of  the  army,  refused 
to  serve  in  a  quarrel  which  they  rather  accounted 
personal  to  the  king,  than  essential  to  the  kingdom  ; 
and  were  alarmed,  moreover,  lest  the  w^eight  which 
success  might  give  the  crown  in  such  an  enterprise, 
might  cause  it  to  become  too  powerftd  for  the  liberty 
of  the  vassals,  of  which  they  were  strictly  tenacious. 

The  Emperor  Henry  V.  died  soon  after  this 
war,  and  Henry  of  England  recalled  to  his  ^{^^' 
own  court  the  widowed  Empress  Matilda,  his 
daughter,  and  formed  the  bold  plan  of  appointing 
her  the  heir  of  his  dominions,  as  the  sole  successor 
of  his  blood.     This  was  an  attempt  of  a  novel  and 
hardy  kind,  for  the  genius  of  the  times  was  averse 
to  female  succession.     It  was  with  them  a  maxim, 
that,  as  it  was  only  the  male  heir  who   could  do 
battle  or  give  counsel,  so  it  was  only  he  who  could 
render  service  for  the  fief  either  in  war,  or  in  the 
courts  of  the  superior  where  the  vassals  assembled. 

This  feudal  rule  seemed  to  exclude  the  Empress 
Matilda  from  succeeding  her  father  in  the  dukedom 
of  Normandy,  and  in  England  the  settlement  of  the 
crown  on  a  woman  was  yet  unheard  of.  Henry, 
however,  by  the  high  interest  which  he  possessed 
among  the  English  clergy  and  barons,  induced  the 
parliament  of  that  country,  after  long  dehberation, 
to  agree  that  his  daughter  should  succeed  to  the 
crown  on  his  death. 

In  Normandy,  Matilda's  succession  to  the  duko- 


FORTUNES    OF    WILLIAM    CLITO.  175 


dom  was  rendered  yet  more  precarious  than  in 
England,  by  the  opposing  claims  of  William 'C lite, 
to  whose  father,  Duke  Robert,  the  fief  had  lawfully 
belonged.  Indeed,  the  fate  of  this  high-spirited  and 
high-born  prince  was  chequered  with  strange  alter- 
nations of  fortune,  which  seemed  frequently  to 
promise  to  elevate  him  to  the  utmost  height  of  his 
wishes,  but  as  often  disappointed  his  expectations. 

Thus,  at  one  time,  Henry's  influence  with  the 
Pope,  procured  from  the  head  of  the  church  an  un- 
expected decree  of  separation  between  William  Clito 
and  his  wife  Sybilla,  in  whose  right  he  held  the 
earldom  of  Maine,  and  once  more  reduced  him  to 
poverty  and  dependence.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
Louis  the  Gross,  partly  with  a  view  to  traverse  the 
measures  of  his  antagonist  King  Henry,  partly  out 
of  a  generous  compassion  for  a  prince  of  exalted 
birth  and  distinguished  merit,  whom  Fortune  had 
defrauded  of  his  birthright,  promoted  this  friendless 
youth  to  a  marriage  as  advantageous  as  that  which 
the  Pope  had  cancelled. 

The  second  wife  of  William  Clito  was  a  sister  of 
the  Queen  of  France,  whose  dowry   was  the  province 
called  the  Vexin,  with  three  adjacent  towns. 
Shortly  afterwards  the  young  prince  succeed-  J^jg"' 
ed   to   the   rich    and    important    earldom    of 
Flanders,  on    the    murder  of   Charles,  called  the 
Good,   who   was  killed   while    hearing  mass,  and 
even  in  the  act  of  prostration,  by  some  of  his  own 
rebellious  subjects. 

The  King  of  France  hurried  to  Bruges,  where 
the  deed  had  been  committed,  and  having  taken  the 
murderers  after  a  long  siege,  caused  them  to  be  pre- 
cipitated from  the  ramparts.  He  then  conferred  the 
earldom  of  Flanders  upon  William  Clito,  whom  he 


176  FORTUNES    OF    WJLLIAM    CLITO. 

had  so  long  relieved  and  protected,  and  whom  he 
now  raised  to  a  more  hopeful  state,  with  respect  to 
dominion  and  revenue,  than  he  had  ever  yet  attain- 
ed. The  new  Earl  of  Flanders  seems  to  have  had 
a  good  right  by  blood  to  be  the  head  of  this  impor- 
tant pro  vince,  being  a  great-grandson  of  Bald  win  YII. 

Henry,  alarmed  by  seeing  his  nephew  thus  in 
possession  of  the  wealthy  and  powerful  earldom  of 
Flanders,  began  to  bethink  himself  by  what  means 
he  might  best  strengthen  the  title  of  his  daughter  to 
Normandy,  which,  in  case  of  his  own  decease, 
must  needs  experience  risk  and  opposition  from  the 
power  of  William  Chto.  For  this  purpose,  he 
resolved  to  accomplish  a  marriage  betwixt  Matilda 
and  Geoffrey,  the  heir  of  Fulk,  Earl  of  Anjou. 

This  house  of  Anjou  had  obtained  the  family 
title  of  Plantagenet,  because  the  above-mentioned 
Fulk,  while  fighting  in  the  crusades  at  the  head  of 
an  hundred  knights^  whom  he  maintained  in  that 
holy  warfare,  had,  in  sign  of  humility,  worn  in  his 
helmet  a  sprig  of  broom,  (in  Latin,  humilis  genista^) 
which  circumstance  somewhat  inconsistently  gave  a 
name  to  one  of  the  haughtiest  families  that  ever 
wore  a  crown,  and  became  the  successors  to  that  of 
England. 

Fulk,  the  reigning  Earl  of  Anjou,  received,  at 
the  time  of  his  son's  marriage  with  Matilda,  an 
invitation  to  succeed  Baldwin  II.  in  the  precarious 
dignity  of  King  of  Jerusalem.  His  sense  of  reli- 
gion, and  love  of  fame,  would  not  allow  him  to  pre- 
fer the  wealth  and  safety  of  his  coronet  as  Earl  of 
Anjou,  to  the  dangers  and  difhculties  of  the  crown 
of  thorns.  He  surrendered  to  his  son  Geoffrey  the 
possession  of  his  ample  dominions  of  Anjou,  Tou- 
>aine,  and  Maine  ;  and  having  seen  him  united  with 


rORTUNES    OF    WILLIAM    CLITO.  177 

the  Empress  Matilda,  departed  for  the  Holy  Land. 
Henry  I.,  fortitied  by  so  strong  an  alliance,  con- 
ceived himself  now  able  to  find  his  nephew  William 
Clito  occupation  in  his  new  earldom,  so  as  to  pre- 
vent his  resuming  his  pretensions  to  Normandy.  He 
therefore  stirred  up  a  German  prince,  Theodoric, 
Landgrave  of  Alsace,  to  prefer  some  claim  to  the 
county  of  Flanders,  and  to  support  it  with  arms. 
William  Clito  defended  himself  with  equal  skill  and 
courage.  A  plot  being  formed  to  murder  him,  it 
was  betrayed  by  a  young  v.'oman  with  whom  he  had 
an  intrigue.  The  girl  was  engaged  in  washing  her 
Jover's  head,  when  by  sighs  and  tears  which  escaped 
from  her  involuntarily,  he  conceived  an  alarm  of  his 
danger. 

Having  extorted  from  the  young  woman  the  cause 
of  her  distress,  he  immediately  provided  for  her 
safety  by  sending  her  to  the  cha,rge  of  the  Duke  of 
Aquitaine,  his  brother-at-arms.  With  the  same 
alacrity  "he  armed  himself,  without  even  waiting  to 
comb  his  hair,  and  attacked  the  conspirators  so 
alertly  as  to  force  them  to  take  shelter  in  the  castle 
of  Alost,  where  he  besieged  them.  The  Land- 
grave, his  competitor,  advancing  to  raise  the  siege, 
when  the  garrison  was  reduced  to  extremity,  en- 
gaged in  an  action  v/ith  Longsword's  forces,  in 
which  he  was  at  first  successful.  But  William  Chto, 
in  person,  charged  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  reserved 
troops,  and  defeated  his  German  opponent. 

With  the  same  ahicrity  the  spirited  prince  returned 
to  the  gates  of  Alost,  where  a  party  of  the  besieged 
were  in  the  act  of  sallying  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Landgrave.  They  were  instantly  charged,  and 
driven  back.  But  in  this  slight  rencontre,  as  the 
gallant  young  count  endeavoured  to  parry  with  his 


173  DEATH    OF    "WILLIAM    CLITO. 

hand  the  thrust  of  a  pike  made  by  a  private  soldier, 
he  was  wounded  in  the  fleshy  part  between  the  fore- 
finger and  thumb.  The  appearance  of  the  hurt  was 
trifling,  but  his  arm  swelled,  and  the  wound  turned 
to  a  gangrene,  of  which  he  died  in  the  space  of  five 
days. 

He  was  a  prince  resembling  his  father,  Robert 
Curt-hose,  in  bravery  and  warlike  fame,  resembling 
him  also  in  the  continued  evil  fortune  which  pursued 
him  ;  but  unlike  his  father  in  that  respect,  we  can- 
not find  that  his  misfortunes  had  any  source  in  his 
own  rashness,  carelessness,  or  misconduct.  It  is 
said,  that  the  aged  and  blind  Duke  Robert,  still  a 
miserable  prisoner  in  England,  started  from  his  bed 
in  a  dream,  in  which  a  soldier  appeared  to  him,  who, 
wounding  his  arm  with  a  pike,  exclaimed  that  his 
son  was  slain.  William  Clito  was  much  regretted 
by  the  King  of  France,  whose  faithful  adherent  he 
had  been  ever  since  he  began  to  distinguish  himself 
in  the  world,  this  firm  union,  as  well  as  Clito's  pre- 
tensions to  Normandy,  having  afforded  the  readiest 
means  of  embarrassing  Louis'  formidable  rival,  King 
Henry. 

Amidst  ceaseless  though  petty  wars,  and  constant 
though  fluctuating  negotiations,  Louis  VI.  became 
aged,  and  his  corpulence,  which  constantly  increased, 
and  procured  him  the  surname  of  the  Gross,  affected 
his  alertness  both  of  body  and  mind.      He  endea- 
voured, according  to  the   custom  of  the  house  of 
Capet,  to  supply  his  own  deficiencies,  by  asso- 
ciating with  him  on  the  throne  his  eldest  son  j  jgg! 
Louis,    a   youth    of    great  hopes.       But   his 
father  did  not  long  enjoy  his  assistance  in  the  affairs 
of  government,  grown  too  weighty  for  his  own  ma- 
nagement. 


COROriATION     OF    LOUIS    LE    JEUNE.  179 

Riding  in  the  streets  of  Paris,  not  many  months 
after  his  coronation,  the  strange  accident  of  a 
black  pig  running  among  his  horse's  feet,  cost  li^^' 
the  young  king  a  severe  fall,  the  consequence 
of  which  he  did  not  survive  many  days.    The  clergy 
pretended,  as  usual,  to  see  in  the  singular  death  of 
this  prince  a  judgment  of  God  upon  his  father  for 
refusing  some  requests  of  the  prelates  ;   and  in  par- 
ticular, for  declining  to  grant  the  royal  pardon,  and 
to  restore  the  efiects  to  one  of  their  number  who 
had  been  guilty  of  treason. 

Deprived  of  his  eldest  son,  the  King  raised  to  the 
throne  instead  his  second  son,  called  Louis  le  Jeune, 
in  order  to  distinguish  him  from  his  father.  This 
prince  was  crowned  at  Rheims  by  Pope  Innocent 
himself,  who  had  at  that  time  retired  into  France, 
to  seek  refuge  from  the  resentment  of  the  emperor, 
with  whom  he  had  many  quarrels.  After  a  short 
time,  the  old  king,  finding  his  health  continue  to 
decline,  surrendered  his  power  altogether  to  his  son. 
As  he  delivered  his  signet  to  him  for  this  purpose, 
he  used  these  just  and  excellent  words  :  "  Take 
this  symbol  of  my  sovereign  power  ;  but  never  for- 
get it  is  only  a  public  trust,  for  the  exercise  of  which 
you  will  hereafter  be  called  to  the  most  strict 
account  before  the  King  of  kings." 

After  this  virtual  resignation,  he  never  again 
assumed  the  ornaments  or  pomp  of  royality.  Yet  he 
lived  to  witness  an  event  in  his  family,  of  the  deepest 
interest.  This  was  the  marriage  of  his  son  Louis  with 
Eleanor,  daughter  of  William  X.  Duke  of  Guienne 
and  Aquitaine.  This  nobleman  having  died  while 
engaged  in  a  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  St.  James 
©f  Compostella,  his  daughter  succeeded  to  his  exten- 
sive territories.     On  her  marriage  with  Louis  VII., 


ISO  BURNING    or    THE    C.  T  ir.DTlAL. 

she  was  crowned  Queen  of  France.      Shortly  after- 
wards, L:>uis  the  Gros:3  died,  his  constitution  a.  d. 
yielding,  it  is  said,  to  the  extreme  heat  of  the  ^137. 
season. 

The  reign  of  Louis  the  Young,  as  he  was  called, 
being  eighteen  years  old  at  his  father's  death,  com- 
menced, as  was  generally  the  case  in  the  French 
monarchy,  with  violent  commotions  among  the  nobi- 
lity and  great  vassals  of  the  crown.  Having  been 
imwillingly  subjected  to  the  authority  of  a  prince 
like  Louis  VL,  who,  notwithstanding  his  corpulent 
habit  of  body,  was  perpetually  in  action,  and  at  the 
head  of  his  troops,  these  dignitaries  now  thought  the 
minority  of  a  young  prince  a  convenient  time  to 
recover  a  part  of  their  exorbitant  power.  Thibault, 
Earl  of  Champagne,  one  of  the  most  artful  intriguers 
and  turbulent  agitators  of  the  period,  engaged  him- 
self in  forming  conspiracies  among  the  nobility,  for 
abridging  the  privileges,  and  diminishing  the  author- 
ity, of  the  crown. 

Enraged  at  the  sinister  intrigues  of  this  factious 
nobleman,  whose  power  was  increased  by  his  bro- 
ther, Stephen  of  Mortagne,  having  usurped  the 
throne  of  England,  from  Matilda,  daughter  of  Henry 
L,  the  king  ravaged  his  country  of  Champagne  with 
imprudent  and  unrelenting  severity.  The  town  of 
Vitry  vras  taken  by  assault :  and  the  cathedral,  con- 
taining thirteen  hundred  persons,  who  had  fled  thither 
as  to  an  inviolable  sanctuary,  was  delivered  to  the 
flames,  with  all  who  were  within  it. 

Louis  was  of  a  fiery,  yet  of  a  religious  disposition. 
The  cruel  deed  vv'as  scarce  done  but  it  v.'as  repented 
of;  and,  besides  the  massacre  and  conflagration  of 
Vitry,  Louis  conceived  that  he  had  other  sins  to  be 
penitent  for.     The  conviction  that  he  had  commit- 


REMORSE    OF    LOUIS.  181 

ted  a  great  and  most  inhuman  crime,  was  mingled 
with  the  reflection  that  he  had  offended  the  Pope,  by 
refusing  to  receive,  as  Archbishop  of  Bourges,  a 
priest  called  Pierre  de  la  Chatre,  chosen  to  that 
office  by  the  chapter  of  the  see,  without  the  royal 
license.  The  consciousness  of  these  two  offences, 
one  of  a  deep  dye,  and  one  founded  in  the  supersti- 
tious prejudice  of  the  age,  distracted  the  mind  of 
the  young  prince. 

He  laid  the  state  of  his  conscience  before  Ber- 
nard, Abbot  of  Clairvaux,  (afterwards  canonized  as 
Saint  Bernard,)  a  divine  of  strict  morals,  venerated 
for  his  good  sense,  learning,  and  probity,  and  inca- 
pable of  substituting  evil  counsel  for  good,  as  far  as 
his  own  comprehension  of  good  and  evil  reached, 
but  from  the  excess  of  his  zeal,  and  his  devotion  to 
the  service  of  the  church,  sufficiently  apt  to  be  mis- 
led by  prejudices  and  passions..  This  churchman, 
avaihng  himself  of  the  remorse  which  agitated  the 
king's  heart,  both  on  account  of  his  cruel  action  at 
Vitry,  and  his  disobedience  to  the  Papal  See,  took 
the  opportunity  to  press  upon  the  afflicted  mind  of 
Louis,  that  the  best  and  only  effectual  atonement 
for  his  misdeeds,  would  be  a  crusade  to  the  Holy 
Land,  undertaken  with  a  force  strong  enough  to 
restore  the  Latin  kingdom  of  Jerusalem,  now  press- 
ed on  every  side  by  the  numerous  nations  of  infidels 
amongst  whom  it  held  its  precarious  existence. 

Upon  the  earnest  exhortations  of  St.  Bernard,  who 
pledged  his  word  for  the  fortunate  issue  of  the  expe- 
dition, Louis  le  Jeune  was  induced  to  assume  the 
Cross,  and  determine  on  an  expedition  to  the  relief 
of  the  Holy  Land,  with  the  whole  strength  of  his 
kingdom.  At  a  great  parliament,  or  assembly  of 
the  representatives  of  the  French  nation,  which  was, 

VOL.  I.  16 


182       CRUSADE  TO  THE  MOLY  LAND. 

on  account  of  the  number  who  attended,  held  in  the 
open  air,  Louis  took  from  the  hands  of  Bernard,  a 
cross,  which  had  been  consecrated  at  Rome  for  his 
particular  use.  The  Counts  of  Toulouse,  of  Flan- 
ders, of  Nevres,  of  Ponthieu,  and  many  others  of 
the  great  vassals,  followed  the  example  of  their 
sovereign.  The  gentry  and  nobility  took  arms  in 
emulation  of  each  other  ;  and  those  who  assumed 
the  cross,  sent  a  distaff  and  scissors  to  such  as  chose 
the  wiser  part  of  remaining  at  home,  as  if  to  upbraid 
them  with  cowardice  and  effeminacy. 

The  same  spirit  spread  to  the  court  of  Conrade 
III.,  Emperor  of  Germany,  where  the  martial  spirit 
of  the  people  favouring  the  zeal  with  which  the 
clergy  preached  the  crusade,  that  prince  assembled 
an  army  of  at  least  fifty  thousand  men-at-arms, 
without  taking  account  of  infantry  and  light  cavalry. 
Among  these  was*  a  band  of  women^  armed  like 
Amazons,  riding  in  the  fashion  of  men,  and  armed 
in  hke  manner.  The  female  who  led  this  band 
acquired,  from  her  gilded  spurs  and  rich  buskins,  the 
title  of  the  golden-footed.  It  may  be  well  imagined, 
that  a  band  so  composed  might  show  the  unbounded 
zeal  of  the  nations  that  furnished  the  crusaders,  but 
it  could  not  add  to  the  force,  and  still  less  improve 
the  discipline,  of  the  army. 

It  was,  indeed,  the  curse  of  these  expeditions, 
though  undertaken  on  a  religious  principle,  to  com- 
prehend among  the  adventurers  they  sent  forth,  not 
only  a  multitude  who  expected  by  such  service  to 
merit  pardon  for  past  offences,  but  many  more  of 
debauched  and  infamous  habits,  who  looked  for 
little  besides  the  pleasure  of  practising,  unpunished, 
the  grossest  vices,  amidst  the  profligacy  of  an  ill- 
regulated  camp. 


CRUSADE    TO    THE    HOLY    LAND.  183 

In  the  French  host,  the  part  of  the  golden-footed 
lady  was  performed  by  no  less  a  personage  than 
Eleanor  herself,  to  whom  Louis  le  Jeune  had  been 
married  a  short  while  before  his  father's  death.  She 
had  an  ample  inheritance  in  her  own  right,  as  the 
heiress  of  her  father,  the  Duke  of  Aquitaine,  which, 
adding  to  the  arrogance  of  a  character  naturally  in- 
tractable, induced  her  to  use  her  own  pleasure  in 
taking  a  personal  share  in  this  adventure,  though 
her  presence  and  behaviour  seem  to  have  acquired 
little  credit  either  to  her  husband  or  herself. 

The  Queen  of  France  was  attended  by  a  large 
band  of  the  youth  of  both  sexes.  Some  gallant 
damsels  were  mounted  on  horseback,  in  masculine 
fashion,  like  the  German  Amazons,  while  a  chosen 
band  of  the  gayest  and  most  noble  young  men  of 
France  assumed  the  title  of  Queen  Eletmor's 
Guard.  It  may  be  easily  supposed  that  pilgrims,  of 
such  an  age  and  such  manners,  were  more  likely  to 
promote  the  gaiety  than  the  discipline  of  this  pious 
undertaking.  The  expedition,  however,  excited  the 
highest  hopes  throughout  Christendom,  which  were 
doomed  to  meet  with  a  woful  reverse. 

Louis  left  his  dominions  during  his  absence  to  the 
care  of  his  relative  and  favourite,  the  Earl  of  Ver- 
mandois,  and  that  of  Suger,  Abbot  of  St.  Dennis. 
The  latter,  though  a  churchman,  entertained  more 
clear  political  views  than  those  of  St.  Bernard,  of 
Clairvaux.  Unlike  the  practice  of  his  order,  Suger 
distinguished  himself  by  using  every  rational  per- 
suasion to  deter  the  king  from  the  ruinous  under- 
taking of  the  crusade.  And  although  he  failed  to 
divert  him  from  his  purpose,  Louis  remained  satis- 
lied  that  no  man  could  be  more  fit  to  be  employed 


184     DISASTERS   or   THi:   s::cond   crusade. 


in  the  administration  of  France,  durin^g^  the  absence 
of  the  sovereign,  than  Abbot  Suger. 

The  crusade  now  began  to  set  forward.  The 
Germans  were  the  first  who  advanced  into  Greece, 
and  they  were  received  by  the  reigning  emperor, 
Manuel  Comnenus,  with  as  much  apparent  good 
will,  and  still  more  secret  and  active  hostility,  than 
his  predecessor  Alexius  had  nourished  against  the 
first  crusade.  This  treacherous  prince  assigned  the 
strangers  false  guides,  by  whom  they  were  induced 
to  take  up  their  quarters  on  the  banks  of  the  un- 
wholesome Melas,  a  river  which  consists  only  of 
mud  during  summer,  and  forms  a  sea  in  the  course 
of  winter. 

Here  the  natural  progress  of  disease,  caused  by 
swamps  and  'inhealthy  exhalations,  was  augmented 
by  bad  provisions,  such  as  meal  adulterated  with 
lime,  supplied  to  them  by  their  treacherous  allies. 
False  and  worthless  coinage  was  also  circulated 
amongst  them,  and  no  secret  artifice  spared,  by 
which  the  formidable  numbers  of  these  simple  de- 
votees might  be  diminished  and  wasted.  This  usage 
of  the  Emperor  of  Greece  was  the  more  atrocious, 
that  he  was  connected  with  Conrade,  whose  forces 
he  thus  undermined  and  destroyed,  in  the  character 
of  a  relative,  as  w-ell  as  ally,  as  they  had  married 
two  sisters. 

The  facts  are,  however,  proved  against  the  treach- 
erous Grecian  by  the  evidence  of  Nicetas,  a  histo- 
rian of  his  own  language  and  country.  The  object 
seems  to  have  been,  that,  by  aiding  in  the  destruc 
tion  of  these  large  armies  of  crusaders,  the  Greeks 
hoped  and  expected  to  hold  the  balance  betwixt  them 
and  the  Saracens,  and  thus  attain  the  superiority 
over  both  the  powers  whom  they  feared.     It  is  even 


TREACHERY    OP    THE    GREEK    EMPEROR.        185 

certain  that  Manuel  Comnenus  entertained  a  secret, 
but  a  close  alliance  with  the  Saracens,  and  that  he 
transmitted  to  them  intelligence  of  the  motions  of 
the  enemy. 

The  host  of  France,  under  its  young  and  valiant 
monarch,  now  arrived  in  Asia,  and  by  precaution  or 
good  fortune  escaped  a  great  number  of  the  snares 
and  dangers  which  had  been  spread  for  the  Ger- 
mans, by  the  treachery  of  the  Greeks.  In  the  mean- 
time, Conrade,  v/ho  had  proceeded  under  the  con- 
duct of-false  or  ignorant  guides,  though  he  found  no 
formal  opposition,  yet  lost  what  remained  of  his 
forces  in  detail,  by  skirmishing  with  the  light  Turk- 
ish cavalry,  who  were  perfectly  acquainted  with  the 
country,  and  accustomed  to  endure  the  heat  of  the 
climate  under  which  the  Germans  sank  by  squadrons 
at  a  time. 

At  length,  with  forces  totally  discouraged,  and 
greatly  diminished,  the  German  Emperor  took  the 
resolution  of  falling  back  on  his  friend  and  ally,  the 
King  of  France,  whose  army  as  yet  retained  an  ap- 
pearance of  order.  The  two  monarchs  embraced 
with  tears  of  sorrow,  and  remained  for  some  time 
unable  to  give  vent  to  their  feelings.  It  was  pro- 
posed they  should  proceed  in  company  towards  Pa- 
lestine. But  the  German  troops  were  so  much 
reduced,  that  it  no  longer  became  the  dignity  of 
the  emperor  to  remain  at  their  head  ;  and  he  took 
the  resolution  of  returning  to  Constantinople,  where 
he  was  more  kindly  received  by  Manuel,  in  his  mis- 
fortunes, than  he  had  been  when  in  his  prosperity. 

The  route  of  the  French  army  who  proceeded  in 

their  undertaking,  was  now  opposed   by  a  serious 

obstacle.     A  large  army  of  Turks,  on  the  opposite 

bank  of  the  Mseander,  lay  determined  to  defend  the 

16* 


186  DISASTERS    OF    THE 

passage  of  that  river.  It  was  neither  fordable,  nor 
was  there  bridge,  shipping,  or  other  mode  of  cross- 
ing. At  the  command  of  the  king,  the  vanguard  of 
the  French  plunged  gallantly  into  the  stream,  and 
fortunately  finding  it  shallower  than  had  been  report- 
ed, half-swimming,  half-dragging  each  other  forward, 
they  attained  the  opposite  bank,  when  the  Turks, 
too  much  astonished  for  resistance,  sustained  a  de- 
cisive and  bloody  defeat.  Yet  in  the  future  progress 
of  the  French,  wherever  the  advantage  of  ground 
was  on  their  opponent's  side,  the  light-armed  archers 
of  the  Turkish  army  wasted  the  Christians  in  many 
a  bold  skirmish  ;  so  that,  notwithstanding  their  ori- 
ginal numbers,  the  crusaders  suffered  extremely  ere 
they  made  any  effectual  progress  in  Asia  Minor. 

Indeed,  the  battle  on  the  Mseander  was  the  begin- 
ning, and  well  nigh  the  end,  of  the  success  of  the 
Christians. 

The  Saracens  and  the  Turks  had  now  become 
accustomed  to  the  warfare  of  the  Latins  in  the  Holy 
Land,  understood  their  mode  of  fighting  better  than 
in  the  days  of  Godfrey  of  Boulogne,  an3  shunned 
all  encounters  with  those  iron  warriors  of  the  west 
and  north,  while  they  fatigued  their  unweildy 
strength  by  ambuscades,  alarms,  skirmishes,  and 
all  the  vexatious  harassing  of  light-armed-troops. 
These  important  advantages,  derived  from  experi- 
ence, were  entirely  on  the  side  of  the  Mahometans, 
for  the  soldiers  of  the  second  crusade  were  as  heavily 
armed  and  as  unacquainted  with  the  Eastern  mode 
of  skirmishing  as  their  predecessors  of  the  first.  The 
infidels,  on  the  other  hand,  took  advantage  of  every 
mistake,  and  on  one  occasion  had  nearly  destroyed 
Louis  and  his  whole  army. 

The  French  marching  in  two  divisions,  in  order 


SECOND    CRUSADE.  187 

to  cross  a  ridge  of  mountains  near  Laodicea,- 
Louis,  who  conducted  the  rear-guard  in  person,  di- 
rected the  officer  who  led  the  van,  to  halt  on  the 
summit  of  the  chain  of  hills,  and  abide  there  till  the 
second  division  came  up.  But  Geoffrey  de  Rangon, 
who  commanded  this  division  of  the  army,  was 
tempted,  by  the  supposed  absence  of  the  enemy, 
and  the  fertility  of  the  plain  beneath,  to  march  down, 
leaving  the  summit  of  the  ridge  undefended,  and 
giving  the  Turks,  who  were  on  the  alert,  an  oppor- 
tunity of  occupying  the  passes  in  great  force. 

Thus  Louis,  when  he  had  reached  with  the  rear- 
guard the  summit  of  the  mountain,  where  he  ex- 
pected to  rejoin  the  vanguard  of  his  army,  found 
himself  involved  in  a  numerous  ambuscade  of  the 
infidels,  who  attacked  him  unexpectedly,  with  those 
dreadful  yells  with  which  it  is  their  custom  to  begin 
battle.  The  Christians,  taken  by  surprise,  were 
thrown  into  disorder,  especially  as  the  broken  and 
craggy  ground  was  totally  unfit  for  the  action  of 
heavy  armed  cavalry,  which  were  the  flower  of  their 
army.  The  unfortunate  Louis  displayed  great  per- 
sonal courage,  and  rallied  his  forces  by  his  own 
example.  His  exertions  were  at  first  in  vain  ;  for, 
though  he  forced  his  way  to  the  very  summit  of  the 
hill,  he  was  soon  lefl  almost  alone,  surrounded  by 
the  enemy,  many  of  his  bravest  knights  being  slain 
at  his  feet. 

In  this  emergency,  finding  himself  at  the  foot  of 
a  rock,  Louis  climbed  up  a  tree,  which  grew  slant- 
ing out  of  the  face  of  the  precipice.  The  Turks 
discharged  their  arrows  against  him  in  vain ;  his 
armour  of  proof  kept  him  safe,  while  he  defended 
himself  with  his  sword  from  the  more  close  attack 
of  such  as  attempted  to  climb  into  his  place  of  re- 


188       DISASTERS    OF    THE    SECOND    CRUSADE. 

fuge,  lopping  off  their  hands  and  heads  with  httle 
difficulty.  The  night  becoming  darker,  he  was  at 
length  left  alone.  In  the  morning  he  was  extricated 
from  his  perilous  situation  by  the  countermarch  of  a 
part  of  his  vanguard.  But  he  had  lost  in  this  unfortu- 
nate encounter  more  than  twenty  thousand  men,  in 
slain,  wounded,  and  prisoners. 

The  day  following  this  disastrous  action,  Louis 
proceeded  to  Attalia,  (the  capital  city  of  Pamphylia,) 
amidst  constant  skirmishes  and  great  hardships. 
The  natives,  who  were  Christians,  though  tributary 
to  the  Turks,  dared  neither  oppose  nor  assist  the 
invaders.  In  order  to  rid  themselves  of  the  crusa- 
ders, they  offered  to  convey  them  to  Antioch  by  sea. 
At  Attalia,  therefore,  the  king  and  his  nobles  and 
knights  went  on  shipboard  and  set  sail  for  the  prin- 
cipality of  Antioch,  which  Bohemund  had  founded 
at  the  time  of  the  first  crusade,  but  which  was  now 
ruled  by  Raymond  de  Poitiers,  a  Latin  prince,  who 
received  the  king  with  demonstrations  of  the  utmost 
respect  and  kindness.  Louis,  however,  regarded  his 
attentions  and  civility  with  distrust,  conceiving  it  to 
be  Raymond's  secret  object  to  obtain  the  assistance 
of  the  French  troops  in  protecting  and  enlarging 
his  own  territory  of  Antioch,  and  for  that  purpose  to 
interrupt  their  journey  to  Palestine. 

While  the  choicest  part  of  the  French  army  which 
accompanied  Louis  himself  had  reached  Antioch, 
those  who  were  left  behind  at  Attalia,  made  repeated 
attempts  to  rejoin  their  monarch,  both  by  land  and 
sea.  They  were  successful  by  neither  mode  of 
passage  ;  and  so  unfortunate  was  their  last  march, 
so  humbled  the  pride  and  resolution  of  the  soldiers 
of  the  Cross,  that  three  or  four  thousand  of  their 
number  not  only  surrendered  to  the  infidels,  but  em-^ 


QUARRELS  OF  LOUIS  AND  ELEANOR.     189 

braced  the  Mahometan  faith,  and  fought  against  the 
caiise  they  had  left  their  country  to  defend.  The 
few  remnants  of  this  part  of  the  army  which  reach- 
ed Antioch,  came  as  stragglers,  unfit  for  military 
service. 

Meantime,  besides  the  grief  and  mortification 
attending  these  losses  and  misfortunes,  the  mind  of 
Louis  had  subject  of  domestic  anxiety,  or  at  least 
he  thought  so.  The  conduct  of  his  queen,  who,  as 
we  have  noticed,  accompanied  the  crusade,  became 
such  as  to  give  great  displeasure  to  her  husband. 
They  had,  as  we  have  already  mentioned,  been  kind- 
ly received  in  the  city  of  Antioch,  of  which  Ray- 
mond de  Poitiers  was  the  sovereign.  This  prince 
was  a  near  relative  to  the  queen,  and  one  of  the 
handsomest  and  most  accomplished  persons  of  his 
time.  He  did  his  utmost  to  make  himself  agree- 
able to  his  royal  guests,  and  the  French  authors  say, 
that,  with  the  queen  at  least,  he  succeeded  too  well. 
Being  her  uncle,  and  a  married  man,  it  is  equally 
possible  that  the  jealousy  of  Louis  le  Jeune  may 
have  imagined  grounds  of  suspicion  which  had  no 
real  existence. 

Nevertheless,  the  king  lett  Antioch,  and  retreated 
to  his  own  army,  bearing  his  queen  along  with  him, 
under  such  circumstances  of  haste  and  concealment, 
as  argued  much  doubt  of  the  loyalty  of  his  host. 
Other  historians  say,  that  Louis  entertained  well- 
grounded  jealousies  of  a  Turk,  whom  they  call 
Saladin,  a  man  of  low  rank,  a  minstrel,  and  a  jug- 
gler. It  is  at  least  certain  that  the  king  was  jealous ; 
and  that  the  queen,  presumptuous  and  arrogant,  was 
little  disposed,  in  hor  pride  as  a  great  heiress,  to 
submit  herself  to  his  humour.  Great  animosity 
arose  between  th«m,  and  Eleanor  began  to  desire  a 


190  SIEGE    OF    DAMASCUS. 

separation,  for  which  she  founded  a  plausible  reason 
upon  their  relationship  to  each  other,  being  vvithin 
the  prohibited  degrees,  a  pretext  which  the  Catholic 
Church  on  many  occasions  sanctioned  as  a  lawful 
cause  for  divorce,  when  the  real  cause  was  some- 
thing very  different.  Louis,  a  scrupulous  and  bigot- 
ed prince,  was  in  some  degree  moved  by  the  con- 
scientious motives  which  Eleanor  seems  only  to  have 
affected. 

The  bad  effects  of  these  dissentions  were  for 
some  time  suspended,  by  the  condition  in  which  the 
royal  pair  were  placed.  The  King  of  France  had 
still  around  him  the  flower  of  his  nobles  and  army, 
who  had  come  with  him  by  sea  from  Attalia,  while 
the  wretched  residue  was  left  to  perish  under  the 
walls  of  that  city,  or  in  the  adjacent  deserts.  The 
assistance  of  Raymond  had  enabled  Louis  to  re- 
mount his  chivalry,  and  he  was  desirous,  even  at  this 
late  hour,  to  do  something  which  should  make  me- 
morable his  expedition  to  Palestine. 

Having  at  length  penetrated  to  Jerusalem,  the 
French  monarch  resolved,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
Christians  of  Palestine,  and  the  military  orders  of 
the  Temple  and  St.  John,  to  besiege  the  city  of 
Damascus,  an  object  very  far  inferior  to  the  grand 
schemes  which  inspired  his  hopes  at  the  outset ;  yet 
still  a  matter  of  consequence,  and  one  which,  even 
in  his  reduced  state,  the  power  of  Louis  was  still 
adequate  to  achieve.  But,  by  misconduct  or  trea- 
son, the  Christians  were  induced  to  abandon  the  at- 
tack, which  they  had  judiciously  commenced  on  the 
weaker  side  of  the  city,  and  to  remove  their  army  to 
another  post,  where  it  was  opposed  to  walls  of 
greater  strength,  and  where  it  was  much  more  diffi- 
cult to  supply  the  besiegers  v/ith  provisions.     In 


RETURN    FROM    THE    HOLY    LAND.  191 

short,  the  strength  of  the  crusaders  was  wasted  and 
misapplied  ;  success  became  impossible,  and  the 
siege  of  Damascus  was  raised,  with  no  profit  and 
little  honotlr. 

Repeated  disasters  and  disappointments  had  now 
subdued  the  hopes  of  the  most  sanguine  of  the  cru- 
saders ;  and  all  prepared  to  abandon  an  enterprise, 
to  which,  though  undertaken  in  the  name  and  cause 
of  religion.  Providence  seemed  to  give  no  en- 
couragement. 

The  Emperor  Conrade  and  the  remnant  of  his 
Germans  first  withdrew  from  the  scene  on  which 
they  were  the  first  to  enter,  and  reached  their  own 
country  without  farther  disaster.  Next,  the  French 
nobles  began  to  retire  individually,  or,  as  it  were, 
steal  back  one  by  one  from  the  ill-omened  enter- 
prise. King  Louis  alone  seemed  yet  to  nourish  the 
lingering  hope,  that  he  might  cover  his  retreat  with 
some  action  of  credit,  and  it  was  not  till  he  was 
alarmed  with  tidings  of  commotions  in  France,  that 
he  resolved  to  desert  Palestine,  where  he  had  been 
unable  to  acquire  even  a  single  hamlet  or  a  foot  of 
land.  Upon  this  pressing  summons,  Louis  returned 
to  his  kingdom  with  the  wretched  remains  of  his 
army,  having  his  domestic  relations  embittered  by 
the  most  dishonourable  suspicions,  both  sources  of 
distress  flowing  out  of  the  same  frenzy  which  dicta- 
ted his  celebrated  crusade. 

Yet,  such  was  the  infatuation  with  which  the  mind 
of  Louis  clung  to  that  extravagant  undertaking, 
that,  when  passing  through  Rome  on  his  return  from 
the  Holy  Land,  he  was  earnest  with  the  Pope  that 
he  should  authorize  St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  to 
preach  a  new  crusade,  which  he  offered  to  join  in 
person  with  a  large  army,  and  thus  to  renew  the  un- 


192       INTRIGUES    OF    THE    COMTE     DE    DREUX. 

happy  expedition  in  which  he  had  suffered  such  loss 
of  men  and  of  reputation.  From  this  proposal,  we 
are  led  to  suppose,  either  that  the  conflagration  and 
massacre  of  Vitry  had  made  an  indelible  impression 
on  the  mind  of  Louis,  or  that  he  was  naturally  of  a 
character  so  perversely  bigoted,  as  to  shut  his  eyes 
even  against  that  sort  of  experience  which  is  bought 
by  the  most  severe  suffering. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  excellent  administration  of  Suger,  the  Abbot 
of  St.  Dennis, had  maintained  the  affairs  of  Louis  le 
Jeune  in  a  reasonably  good  condition  at  home,  not- 
withstanding the  absence  of  the  king,  with  the  great 
portion  of  his  forces,  which  he  had  so  imprudently 
led  to  the  distant  wars  of  Palestine.  But  when  the 
news  arrived  that  the  whole,  or  almost  the  whole,  of 
that  huge  army  had  perished,  without  a  single  feat 
of  any  kind  which  could  add  honour  to  their  nation, 
excepting  the  single  action  of  the  Mseander,  the 
general  voice  of  the  nation  accused  the  king  of 
incapacity  ;  and  it  was  suggested,  amid  the  burst  of 
universal  discontent,  that,  like  some  of  his  prede- 
cessors, the  reigning  monarch  should  be  dethroned, 
and  committed  to  a  cloister. 

The  Comte  de  Dreux,  brother  of  King  Louis, 
who  had  returned  from  the  Holy  Land  a  short  time 
before  him,  had  "-reatly  contributed  to  the  increase 
of  the  national  displeasure,  by  intrigues  which  had 
for  their  object  his  brother's  crown ;  and  it  vv^as  the 


aUARREL  OF  LOUIS  AND  ELEANOR,     193 

rumour  of  such  practices  which  recalled  Louis  from 
Syria,  after  a  protracted  stay  in  that  country.  These 
dissensions  between  the  royal  brothers  were  with 
some  difficulty  composed,  so  soon  as  the  return  of 
Louis  had  rendered  the  Comte  de  Dreux's  plans 
desperate.  But  there  remained  the  rooted  quarrel 
between  the  king  and  his  wealthy  and  haughty  wife 
Queen  Eleanor,  which  now  began  to  assume  the 
appearance  of  an  open  rupture. 

Without  supposing,  with  the  French  historians, 
that  Louis  had  actual  grounds  for  his  jealousy,  it  is 
certain  he  was  an  object  of  personal  dislike  to  his 
wife,  who  declared  that  his  rigid  morals  and  ascetic 
devotion  were  those  of  a  monk,  not  of  a  cavalier, 
and  expressed  for  him  an  aversion  mingled  with 
contempt,  which,  on  his  part,  was  calculated  to 
excite  a  strong  suspicion  that  she  entertained  a 
preference  for  another.  Louis  seems  also  to  have 
shared  in  the  scruples,  which  Eleanor  only  affected, 
respecting  their  too  near  relationship,  and  both  the 
royal  consorts  began  to  consider  the  dissolution  of 
their  marriage  as  desirable  on  many  accounts. 

The  sagacious  Abbot  of  St.  Dennis  foresaw,  that 
in  gratifying  his  own  and  Eleanor's  personal  dislike, 
by  consenting  to  a  separation,  Louis  must  inevitably 
subject  himself  to  the  necessity  of  restoring  the 
ample  dominions  of  ilquitaine,  which  the  princess 
had  inherited  from  her  father  ;  and  the  far-sighted 
minister  might  also  reasonably  fear,  that,  once  at 
liberty,  she  might  confer  them,  along  with  her  hand, 
on  some  one  whose  possession  of  so  fair  a  portion 
of  the  territory  of  France  might  prove  dangerous  to 
the  sovereign,  and  that  the  king  must,  therefore,  act 
very  imprudently  in  giving  way  to  the  restitution  by 
consenting  to  the  divorce.     For  these  reasons,  the 

VOL.    I.  17 


194  DIVORCE    OF    LEWIS    AND    ELEANOR. 

Abbot  Suger  bent  the  whole  of  his  pohtical  genius 
to  accommodate  matters  between  Louis  and  the 
queen,  and  although  he  was  unable  to  accomplish 
the  desired  reconciliation,  he  found  means  to  prevail 
on  them  to  live  together  on  decent  terms,  until  death 
deprived  Louis  of  his  services. 

Soon  after  this  event,  the  royal  pair  openly  de- 
clared themselves  desirous  of  a  separation.  In  the 
motives  alleged  on  the  king's  side,  nothing  was  said 
of  the  reports  against  Eleanor's  character.  But  in 
secret  Louis  justified  his  conduct  to  those  who  cen- 
sured him  for  parting  with  his  wife,  along  with  the 
unavoidable  necessity  of  restoring  the  duchy  of 
Aquitaine,  by  alleging  the  irregularity  of  her  life, 
and  dishonour  of  being  connected  with  her.  A 
council  of  the  French  national  church  held  at  Bau- 
gence,  having  taken  cognisance  of  the  scruples  of 
conscience  entertained,  or  affected,  by  the  royal 
pair,  and  having  considered  their  nearness  of  bJood, 
declared  their  marriage  unlawful,  though  it  had 
already  subsisted  more  than  sixteen  , years,  and 
although  two  daughters,  who  had  been  the  fruit  of 
the  union,  were  by  the  sentence  rendered  illegiti- 
mate. 

The  decree  of  the  Council  of  Baugence  was  con- 
firmed by  the  Pope ;  and  the  marriage  between 
Louis  and  Eleanor  was  accordingly  formally  an- 
nulled. Louis  had  now  ample  time  to  remark,  and 
perhaps  to  regret,  the  consequence  of  his  impru- 
dence. 

Eleanor  was  reinvested  as  heiress  to  her  father 
in  Guienne,  Gascony,  Poitou,  and  other  extensive 
territories  belonging  to  his  dukedom  of  Aquitaine. 
Nevertheless,  though  having  once  more  the  power 
of   bestowing  an  ample   property  with  her  hand, 


MARRIAGE    OF    ELEANOR.  195 

Louis  flattered  himself  that  her  behaviour  had  been 
so  scandalous,  that  there  was  not  a  gentleman  in 
the  kingdom  so  poor  in  fortune  and  spirit  as  to  take 
her  to  wife,  though  sure  thereby  to  become  Duke  of 
Aquitaine. 

He  was  much  deceived  ;  for  his  late  consort  had, 
even  before  her  divorce  was  concluded,  secured  for 
herself  a  second  match,  and  that  with  a  prince  rich 
in  present  possessions,  yet  more  so  in  future  ex- 
pectations ;  and,  what  must  have  been  peculiarly 
gratifying  to  Eleanor's  vindictive  temper,  to  a  prince, 
the  increasing  whose  strength  was,  in  fact,  the 
diminishing  that  of  Louis,  to  whom  the  object  of 
her  second  choice  was,  by  birth,  a  natural  opponent. 
In  a  word,  the  person  on  whom  she  fixed  her  elec- 
tion was  Henry  Plantagenet,  eldest  son  of  Matilda, 
sole  surviving  child  of  Henry  I.,  King  of  England, 
and  heir  to  his  mother's  pretensions  to  his  grand- 
father's kingdom. 

You  cannot  have  forgotten  that  Henry  had  de- 
clared Matilda,  the  widow  of  the  Emperor  Henry 
V.  of  Germany,  the  heiress  of  his  kingdom,  and 
strengthened  her  right,  by  choosing  for  her  second 
husband  Geoffrey  Plantagenet,  Count  of  Anjou. 
But  the  object  of  Henry  L  was  for  some  time 
thwarted  by  the  ambition  of  Stephen,  Earl  of 
Mortagne,  who  forcibly  set  aside  the  rights  of 
Matilda  and  her  son,  and  intruded  himself  into  the 
throne,  where,  for  a  period  of  sixteen  years,  he  sup- 
ported himself  by  his  own  bravery,  and  the  swords 
of  a  great  body  of  barons,  to  whom  the  confusion  of 
a  civil  war  was  more  profitable  than  the  good  order 
and  strict  government  of  a  lawful  monarch  and  a 
profound  peace. 


196  MARRIAGE    OF    ELEANOR 

In  1146,  the  fortune  of  war  had  passed  so  ^*  ^* 
much  to  Stephen's  side,  that  the  Empress 
Matilda,  with  her  son  Henry,  who,  though  a  mere 
youth,  began  to  show  strong  symptoms  of  the  wis- 
dom and  courage  which  afterwards  distinguished 
him,  were  compelled  to  retreat  to  Normandy,  which 
Geoffrey,  the  husband  of  Matilda,  and  father  of 
Henry,  then  ruled  as  duke,  in  right  of  his  wife. 
Upon  the  proposal  of  the  Earl  of  Anjou,  that  his  wife 
and  he  should  cede  their  right  in  Normandy  to  their 
son,  the  King  of  France  was  prevailed  upon  to 
admit  young  Henry  as  vassal  into  the  duchy  of  Nor- 
mandy, on  consideration  of  his  surrendering  a  frontier 
district  of  that  province,  called  the  Vexin,  which 
Louis  considered  as  a  cession  of  such  importance, 
that,  by  way  of  acknowledgment,  he  aided  s.  d. 
Henry  with  a  body  of  troops  for  putting  him  H^O. 
into  possession  of  the  rest  of  the  fief. 

Louis  had  hardly  received  Henry  Plantagenet  as 
a  new  vassal  in  the  duchy  of  Normandy,  when  he 
had  a  quarrel  with  Geoffrey,  Earl  of  Anjou,  that 
prince's  father  ;  and  repenting  what  he  had  done  in 
Henry's  behalf,  he  invited  to  Normandy,  Eustace, 
son  of  King  Stephen,  promising  to  assist  him  in 
possessing  himself  of  that  same  duchy,  although  he 
had  so  lately  granted  the  investiture  to  Henry.  The 
prudent  advice  of  Suger,  who  then  still  lived, 
brought  about  an  accommodation  of  these  perplex- 
ed affairs.  A  suspension  of  arms  was  agreed  to  ; 
young  Eustace  was  sent  back  to  England,  highly 
incensed  at  the  usage  received  from  Louis  ;  and 
Henry's  right  to  Normandy  was  once  again  fully 
recognised. 

Presently  after  this  accommodation,  Geof-  a.  d. 
frey,  Earl  of  Anjou,  died.      To  Henry  he  left  il6l. 


AND    HENRY    PLANTAGENET.  197 

his  earldoms  of  Anjou,  Touraine,  and  Maine, 
under  the  condition,  that  in  case  he  should  obtain 
full  possession  of  his  royal  mother's  inheritance  of 
England,  he  must  become  bound  to  cede  the  French 
dominions  of  Anjou  to  his  second  brother,  named 
Geoffrey  after  his  father. 

Thus,  at  the  period  of  the  divorce  of  Louis,  when 
Eleanor  cast  her  eyes  upon  Henry  Plantagenet  to 
be  her  second  husband,  he  was,  in  actual  possession, 
Duke  of  Normandy,  Count  of  Anjou,  Maine,  and 
Touraine,  and  therefore  no  unfit  mate  for  the  heiress 
of  Aquitaine.  But  the  circumstances  attending  a 
diminution  of  rank  from  that  which  she  held  in  her 
first  marriage,  were  mortifying,  to  say  the  least. 
We  cannot  therefore  doubt,  that  the  brilliant  pros^ 
pect  of  the  crown  of  England,  to  which  Henry  had 
so  just  a  claim,  supported  by  a  strong  party  of 
friends  in  that  kingdom,  had  no  slight  share  in 
recommending  her  second  choice  to  the  ambitious 
Eleanor. 

In  other  respects,  there  was  some  inequality. 
The  bridegroom  was  only  twenty  years  of  age  ;  the 
bride  had  attained  the  riper  period  of  thirty,  and 
upwards.  But,  in  the  case  of  so  wealthy  an  heiress, 
Henry  did  not  let  his  taste  for  youth  interfere  with 
his  sense  of  interest.  As  to  the  scandals  propagated 
concerning  Eleanor  at  the  French  court,  Henry 
treated,  or  affected  to  treat,  them  with  an  indifference 
and  contempt,  which  perhaps  they  justly  deserved. 

By  her  union  with  Henry,   Eleanor  con- 
ferred on  him  the  two  duchies  of  Guienne  and  ^[^ 
Gascony,  with  the   earldom   of  Poitou,  and 
their  extensive  dependencies.    His  subjects  in  these 
new  dominions  regarded  the  choice  of  their  duchess 
with  applause,  for  the  character  of  Henry,  both  for 
17* 


198 INVASION    OF    NORMANDY. 

courage  and  prudence,  stood  as  high  as  that  of  any 
prince  then  living  ;  while  the  misfortunes  of  Louis 
in  the  crusade  had  tarnished  his  character  ;  and  his 
simplicity  in  parting  with  Eleanor,  and  thus  throwing 
so  rich  a  prize  into  the  hands  of  a  hereditary  rival, 
was  so  generally  felt,  that  it  is  said  by  some  his- 
torians, that  the  epithet  of  h  Jeune,  or  the  Young, 
was  conferred  on  him  for  his  want  of  prudence  on 
this  occasion,  and  not  merely  to  distinguish  him 
from  his  father. 

The  scales  fell  from  the  eyes  of  Louis  when  he 
perceived  to  what  a  height  of  power  Henry  Planta- 
genet  had  been  raised  by  this  unexpected  match. 
He  became,  of  new,  impatient  to  weaken,  or  rather 
to  ruin  him.  For  that  purpose,  the  French  King 
engaged  in  a  league  with  his  brother  the  Earl  of 
Dreux,  with  Eustace,  son  of  King  Stephen,  with  the 
Earl  of  Blois,  and  with  Geoffrey  Plantagenet, 
Henry's  own  brother,  for  the  purpose  of  despoiling 
the  young  Duke  of  Normandy  of  his  dominions, 
and  dividing  them  among  themselves. 

But  this  iniquitous  league  had  no  better  success 
than  it  deserved.  Henry  at  once  protected  his  own 
country  of  Normandy  against  the  confederates  by 
whom  he  was  invaded,  and  extinguished  an  insur- 
rection which  his  brother  Geoffrey  had  excited  in 
Anjou.  The  latter  prince,  whose  defection  was 
equally  unreasonable  and  unnatural,  was  compelled 
to  make  the  most  humble  submission.  To  the 
admiration  of  all,  Henry's  conduct,  notwithstanding 
his  youth,  was  equally  marked  with  the  political 
wisdom  and  sagacity  which  prepare  for  success,  and 
with  the  firmness  and  audacity,  which  seldom  fail  to 
command  it. 

He  endeavoured,   by  every  degree  of    decent 


CIVIL    WAR    IN    ENGLAND.  199 

respect  and  becoming  moderation,  to  give  Louis  a 
fair  pretence  of  withdrawing  from  a  war  which  had 
ah'eady  disgusted  him  with  its  want  of  success. 
But,  ere  the  negotiation  between  them  was  entirely 
conckided,  a  crisis  arrived,  which  demanded  the 
attention  of  the  younger  prince  elsewhere  :  Henry 
received  intelligence  from  England,  that  Walling- 
ford  Castle,  the  most  important  of  those  fortresses 
which  were  yet  held  by  his  family  partisans  in  that 
kingdom,  was  now  closely  besieged  by  King 
Stephen,  while  the  governor,  Brian  Fitzcompte, 
sent  word  to  Henry,  demanding  either  relief,  or 
permission  to  surrender  the  castle.  Leaving  the 
greater  part  of  his  forces  to  defend  his  French 
dominions,  in  case  of  any  renewed  attempt  from  the 
confederates,  Henry  embarked  for  England  with 
three  thousand  infantry,  and  a  hundred  and  fifty 
chosen  knights. 

His  presence,  though  with  so  small  a  body  of 
forces,  revived  the  spirits  of  his  confederates. 
Malmesbury,  Warwick,  and  thirty  castles  of  inferior 
strength,  surrendered  to  the  son  of  Matilda,  and 
grandson  of  Henry.  The  civil  war  was  revived 
throughout  England  with  fury,  when  it  was  suddenly 
put  a  stop  to  by  the  death  of  Eustace,  son  of 
Stephen.  The  death  of  this  young  man,  for  whose 
interests,  as  his  successor,  his  father  Stephen  had 
maintained  the  contest,  removed  a  great  impediment 
to  peace,  which  was  accordingly  concluded  on 
moderate  terms.  Stephen,  now  aged  and  childless, 
was  allowed  to  retain  the  crown  during  his  lifetime, 
on  condition  that  he  adopted  Henry  for  his  son,  heir, 
and  successor. 

This  arrangement  having  settled  the  succession 
of  England  in  favour  of  Henry,  he  returned  to  the 


200  ACCESSION    OF    HENRY    II. 

continent  with  the  same  speed  with  which  he  had 
come  from  thence,  in  order  to  prepare  against  the 
attempts  of  Louis,  who,  always  malevolent  to  his 
divorced  wife's  second  husband,  was  threatening  to 
renew  the  war  in  France  to  embarrass  his  treaty 
with  Stephen.  For  this  purpose,  too,  the  French 
king  excited  commotions  in  Aquitaine.  These 
were  soon  appeased  by  Henry,  on  his  arrival,  and 
he  contrived,  by  some  acceptable  services  performed 
to  the  King  of  France,  in  his  quality  of  Duke  of 
Normandy,  to  render  even  the  suspicious  Louis 
once  more  satisfied  with  his  conduct  as  a  dutiful 
vassal. 

Henry  was  soon  after  established  on  the  English 
throne,  by  the  sudden  death  which  removed  from  that 
situation  his  competitor,  Stephen,  whose  whole  reign 
had  been  a  continued  civil  war,  which  had  its  source 
in  usurpation,  and  was  carried  on  with  much  fury  and 
bloodshed,  as  well  as  incalculable  detriment  to  both 
the  kingdoms.  Thus  possessed  of  as  much  real  power, 
and  of  more  wealth  than  the  King  of  France,  Hen- 
ry H.,  with  a  sagacity  which  overcame  all  desire  to 
display  his  superiority,  proposed  a  match  betwixt  his 
eldest  son.  Prince  Henry,  and  Margaret,  daughter 
of  Louis  le  Jeune,  by  his  second  wife,  Constantia, 
Princess  of  Castillo,  whom  he  had  married,  after  the 
declaration  of  the  Council  of  Baugence  had  annulled 
his  union  with  Eleanor  of  Aquitaine. 

The  prince  and  princess  were  mere  children  :  but 
it  was  customary  in  those  days  to  arrange  contracts 
of  marriage  betwixt  persons  of  their  station  many 
years  before  the  age  of  the  contracting  parties  per- 
mitted them  to  be  carried  into  effect.  Henry,  affect- 
ing to  consider  himself  as  the  honoured  party  in  this 
union,  lavished  valuable  gifts  on  all  about  the  French 


PRUDENT    POLICY    OF    HENRY    II.  201 

court,  whose  good  opinion  or  favourable  sentiments 
couid  forward  his  negotiation;  His  liberahty  ex- 
tended itself  even  to  the  doctors  of  the  university  of 
Paris,  the  students,  and  the  principal  citizens. 

In  every  case  of  ceremony  or  etiquette,  it  was  the 
policy  of  Henry  to  pay  Louis  the  most  ceremonious 
attention,  and  to  disguise,  under  the  observances  of 
^  respectful  vassal,  that  formidable  authority  which 
must  otherwise  have  rendered  him  an  object  of  sus- 
picion and  jealousy  to  his  lord  paramount.  He  even 
gratified  Louis'  passion  for  a  holy  war,  engaging  to 
assist  that  monarch  with  all  his  forces,  in  a  crusade 
to  be  directed  not  against  the  infidels  of  the  east,  but 
for  the  purpose  of  driving  the  Moors  out  of  Spain. 
Henry,  however,  who  only  meant  to  flatter  the  king 
of  France,  extricated  himself  from  the  execution  of 
his  engagement,  by  persuading  Pope  Adrian,  with 
whom  he  had  secret  influence,  to  express  disappro- 
bation of  the  undertaking. 

But  while  punctiliously  accurate  in  rendering  all 
respectful  homage  to  Louis  as  his  sovereign,  the 
English  monarch  was  cautiously  enlarging  his  own 
territories,  and  adding  to  his  real  power.  He  exerted 
authoritatively  his  rights  as  lord  paramount  over 
Bretagne,  which,  since  the  time  of  Rollo,  had  been 
a  feudal  dependence  on  Normandy,  and  he  negoti- 
ated for  a  fresh  surrender  of  the  Vexin,  that  district 
which  his  mother  Matilda  had  yielded  up  to  Louis 
as  the  price  of  his  own  first  investiture  of  the  duke- 
dom. This  strong  frontier  he  stipulated  should  be 
the  dowery  of  the  Princess  Margaret.  And  in  other 
■cases  where  actual  power  could  be  attained,  or  a 
desirable  object  of  ambition  oftered  itself,  Henry 
never  allowed  this  ceremonious  deference  to  the  will 


202  HENRY    LAYS    CLAIM    TO    TOULOUSE^ 

of  his  superior  to  interfere  for  an  instant  with  its 
gratification. 

Thus  in  1159,  the  King  of  England  resolved  to 
assert  a  pretended  right  to  the  city  and  earldom  of 
Toulouse,  as  a  fief  and  dependency  of  the  dukedom 
of  Aquitaine,  which  had  been  pledged  to  the  present 
earl  by  Queen  Eleanor's  father,  and  which,  in  qual- 
ity of  her  husband,  he  now  set  up  a  right  to  redeem. 
This  claim,  weak  in  point  of  justice,  he  resolved  to 
make  good  with  the  arms  of  Normandy,  Guienne, 
and  England.  Raymond,  Count  of  Toulouse,  the 
crown  vassal,  thus  threatened,  applied  to  the  King 
of  France,  whose  sister  he  had  married,  for  protec- 
tion against  a  prince,  whose  forces  he  was  unable  to 
resist ;  and  Louis,  on  offering  his  interposition,  was 
startled  to  find  that  Henry,  so  deferential  and  tracta- 
ble in  matters  of  small  importance,  was  pertinacious 
in  ail  equal  degree  in  objects  of  magnitude.  Louis 
had  nearly  been  convinced  of  the  real  character  of 
his  vassal  in  a  manner  highly  unpleasing. 

Determining  to  support  Count  Raymond  against 
Henry,  the  King  of  France  threw  himself  into  the 
city  of  Toulouse,  with  a  handful  of  soldiers,  trusting 
that  veneration  for  his  person  would  withhold  his 
vassal  from  any  attempt  on  the  city  where  he  raised 
his  own  standard.  Henry's  forces  were  in  readiness 
for  the  siege,  and  most  likely  he  might,  by  a  sudden 
attack,  have  made  himself  master  of  Toulouse, 
and  of  the  person  of  Louis,  thus  imprudently  hazard- 
ed within  it.  The  question  was  debated  in  Henry's 
council,  when  some  statesmen  insisted  on  the  sanc- 
timonious respect  which  was  due  to  the  lord  para- 
mount. They  were  answered  by  the  unscrupulous 
Becket,  then  chancellor,  and  a  favourite  minister  of 
Henry  :    "  Advance  banners,"  said  he,  "  my  noble 


RECONCILIATION    OF    LOUIS    AND    HENRY.     203 

liege  ;  the  King  of  France  laid  aside  his  title  to  your 
obedience  as  a  vassal,  the  instant  he  levelled  a  spear 
agains   you." 

Henry  listened  with  a  longing  disposition  to  fol- 
low the  uncompromising  advice  of  the  daring  states- 
man. But  he  reflected  that  he  was  himself  at  the 
head  of  an  army  assembled  only  by  his  feudal  power, 
and  that  it  would  be  perilous  to  show  in  his  own  per- 
son any  contempt  for  that  fealty  to  the  superior,  upon 
which  his  own  authority  rested.  There  was  also  to 
be  considered  the  risk  of  offending  all  the  crown 
vassals  of  France,  who  were  likely  to  witness  with 
resentment  the  imprisonment  of  their  common  liege 
lord  the  king,  by  one  of  their  own  number.  Upon 
the  whole,  with  that  exquisite  prudence  which  regu- 
lated Henry's  conduct,  he  turned  reluctantly  aside 
A.  D.  from  the  siege  of  Toulouse,  alleging  as  a  motive 
^159-  the  respect  he  entertained  for  the  person  of  the 
lord  paramount,  who  was  within  the  city.  Louis 
was  flattered  by  his  moderation,  and  peace  was 
shortly  afterwards  made,  on  condition  of  Henry 
retaining  considerable  conquests,  made  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  Count  of  Toulouse,  to  whom  he  granted, 
at  the  request,  as  he  carefully  stated,  of  the  King  of 
France,  a  truce  for  the  short  space  only  of  one  sin- 
gle year. 

The  two  monarchs  were  so  thoroughly  reconciled, 
as  to  admit  of  their  acting  in  concert  concerning  a 
matter  of  great  importance  to  Christianity.  You 
are  to  understand,  that  the  Emperor  of  Germany 
had  down  to  this  period  always  claimed  the  right  of 
nominating,  or,  at  least  of  confirming,  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  Popes  to  the  Bishopric  of  Rome.  This 
high  privilege  they  exercised,  as  it  descended  to 
them  with  the  empire  of  Charlemagne.      It  was 


204  DISPUTED    ELECTION    OF    POPE. 

often  disputed  by  the  Popes,  who  were  extremely 
desh'ous  to  deprive  a  laic  prince  of  a  privilege  which 
they  alleged  was  inconsistent  with  the  liberties  of 
the  church,  and  contended  that  the  election  of  the 
Pope  lay  in  the  choice  of  the  College  of  Cardi- 
nals. 

By  their  obstinate  opposition,  supported  by  many 
wars,  the  popes  had  deprived  the  emperor  of  almost 
all  vestige  of  this  privilege.  But  a  double  and  dis- 
puted election  having  occurred  in  1160,  the 
Emperor  Frederick  Barbarossa  took  upon  ^jgQ* 
him  so  far  the  right  of  his  ancestors,  as  to 
summon  a  council  of  the  church  to  determine  which 
of  the  two  candidates,  Alexander  III.  or  Victor  I V^ 
was  lawfully  elected  to  the  Holy  See.  Frederick 
declared  in  favour  of  Victor,  which  induced  the- 
Kings  of  France  and  England,  jealous  of  so  higb 
an  exertion  of  authority  on  the  part  of  Germany,  ta- 
espouse  the  cause  of  his  opponent.  Their  favour- 
ed candidate  Alexander  came  in  person  to  France, 
where  he  found  Henry  and  Louis  in  arms  to  defend 
his  cause,  in  case  the  emperor  should  attempt  to» 
support  Victor  by  force.  The  two  kings  received 
him  with  the  respect  due  to  the  head  of  the  church, 
that  is,  with  tokens  of  the  utmost  deference.  They 
walked  in  person  each  by  a  stirrup  of  the  pontiff's 
saddle,  as  he  rode  towards  a  magnificent  tent,  in 
which  he  was  accommodated.  "  It  was  a  sight," 
says  the  Catholic  historian  Baronius,  "  for  God, 
angels,  and  men — a  triumph  such  as  had  never 
before  been  seen  in  this  world." 

Alexander  afterwards  held  a  great  council  of  the 
church  at  the  city  of  Tours.  But  the  emperor,  and 
the  kings  of  the  north  of  Europe,  remained  deter* 
mined  in  their  election  of  Victor,  and  the  schistn 


THOMAS    A    BECKET.  205 

that  arose  from  the  dispute  divided  Christendom 
into  two  factions,  and  deluged  Italy  with  blood. 
Alexander  was  so  far  grateful  to  his  adherents,  that 
he  lent  his  intercession  to  place  on  a  surer  footing 
than  it  had  yet  assumed,  the  peace  between  the  two 
kings. 

Hitherto  there  had  been  little  sincerity  in  the 
apparent  good  understanding  between  Henry  and 
Louis,  and  we  have  mentioned  many  wars  between 
them,  interrupted  by  truces,  which,  though  the 
patience  and  prudence  of  Henry  sometimes  soothed 
Louis'  suspicions  for  a  time,  never,  or  seldom, 
failed  to  be  succeeded  by  new  subjects  of  disagree- 
ment. In  all  these  disputes,  Henry,  more  prudent, 
more  wealthy,  above  all,  more  fortunate,  had,  either 
by  war  or  negotiation,  or  both,  enlarged  his  own 
territories  at  the  expense  of  those  of  Louis.  But 
in  the  latter  part  of  this  great  king's  life,  the  clouds 
of  adversity  seemed  to  gather  round  him,  and  for- 
tune, as  is  frequently  the  case,  turned  from  him 
when  his  hairs  became  gray.  A  very  serious  part 
of  Henry  II. 's  misfortunes  arose  from  his  disputes 
with  his  ancient  mmister  and  favourite,  Thomas  a 
Becket. 

This  wily  churchman  had  been  able  to  conceal 
his  real  character  from  Henry,  by  appearing  in  an 
assumed  one  while  serving  as  his  chancellor,  very 
nearly  after  the  manner  in  which  the  English  mo- 
narch himself  had  occasionally  persuaded  Louis 
that  he  was  a  faithful  and  devoted  vassal  to  the 
French  crown.  At  this  period,  as  we  have  partly 
seen,  the  See  of  Rome  was  making  the  widest  and 
most  fatal  encroachments  upon  the  authority  of  the 
temporal  princes  of  Europe,  and  Henry  was  natu- 
rally desirous  of  making  the  best  stand  he  yet  could 

YOt,  I.  18 


206  ELEVATION    OF    BECKET. 

against  the  extravagant  claims  of  the  Church  of 
Rome. 

It  was  of  the  utmost  consequence  in  this  species 
of  contes^j^  that  the  see  of  Canterbury  should  be 
filled  by  a  prelate  favourable  to  the  monarch,  and 
wilhng  to  countenance  his  interests  in  any  discus- 
sions he  might  have  with  the  Pope.  Henry  thought, 
therefore,  that  when  the  Archbishopric  of  Canter- 
bury became  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  incumbent 
Theobald,  he  could  not  secure  his  own  interest  bet- 
ter, than  by  raising  his  chancellor,  Becket,  to  that 
situation.  This  minister  had  always  seemed  to 
possess  the  manners  of  a  soldier,  a  statesman,  and 
a  politician,  rather  than  of  a  churchman.  Wq  have 
already  seen,  that  he  entertained  no  scruples  in 
advising  the  king  to  bold  and  arbitrary  measures 
against  his  lord  paramount,  Louis  ;  and,  judging 
from  his  conduct  before  Toulouse,  Henry  expected 
from  him  no  opposition  to  his  will  in  matters  where 
a  more  zealous  primate  might,  perhaps,  have  given 
him  trouble,  by  interference  in  any  differences  which 
might  arise  with  the  Pope. 

But  no  sooner  had  the  king,  with  considerable 
difficulty,  obtained  the  election  of  his  favourite  to 
the  archbishopric,  by  the  monks  of  Canterbury  and 
the  suffragen  bishops  of  that  see,  than  he  was  pre- 
sently satisfied  what  an  unhappy  choice  he  had 
made  of  the  head  of  the  Anglican  church.  Becket, 
who  had  hitherto  concealed,  under  a  cloak  of  appa- 
rent loyalty  and  devotion  to  his  sovereign,  as  much 
ambition  as  ever  animated  the  breast  of  a  proud 
man,  now  affected  an  extremity  of  zeal  for  the 
rights  and  privileges  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  as 
the  mode  by  which  he  intended  to  rise  to  the  digni- 
ty,  perhaps,  of  the    papal  tiara   itself,   and   distin- 


MURDER    OF    BECKET.  207 

guished  himself  by  the  audacity  which  he  displayed 
on  all  possible  questions  in  which  he  could  assert 
the  immunities  of  the  church  against  the  preroga- 
tive of  the  king. 

The  particulars  of  their  various  and  obstinate 
quarrels  must  be  looked  for  in  the  History  of  Eng- 
land, where  it  forms  an  interesting  page,  and  not  in 
that  of  France,  which  we  are  now  engaged  with. 
Suffice  it  to  say  in  this  place,  that  Thomas  a  Becket 
having  carried  to  the  uttermost  his  opposition  to  the 
king's  authority,  Henry,  whose  temper  was  impa- 
tient and  hasty,  was  at  last  induced  to  express  him- 
self thus  inconsiderately  : — "  Have  I  no  faithful  ser- 
vant who  will  rid  me  of  this  upstart  and  arrogant 
priest?"  Four  knights  of  his  royal  household,  men 
habituated  to  blood  and  slaughter,  caught  at  the 
hint  contained,  as  they  apprehended,  in  these  rash 
words.  They  rode  to  Canterbury,  and  after  some 
exchange  of  threatening  language,  slew  the  arch- 
bishop at  the  foot  of  the  high  altar,  where  he  was 
officiating. 

Although  the  king  had  no  concern  in  this  rash  and 
desperate  action,  excepting  the  blame  of  having 
spoken  inadvertently  the  rarsh  words  by  which  it  was 
occasioned,  he  suffered  the  whole  evil  consequences 
which  could  have  attached  to  the  voluntary  author 
and  instigator  of  such  an  impiety.  The  cruelty  of 
the  actors  was  compared  with  the  courage  of  the 
sufferer,  who,  whether  sustained  by  his  personal 
courage,  or  by  the  sincere  belief  that  he  was  acting 
in  the  faithful  discharge  of  his  duty,  had  displayed 
the  most  undaunted  composure  throughout  the  whole 
bloody  transaction.  wSuperstition  added  to  the  ter- 
rors of  the  deed,  and  Becket  was  pronounced  not 
merely  an  innocent  churchman,  slain  in  defence  of 


203         LOUIS  SEEKS  A  CAUSE  OF 

the  privileges  of  his  order,  but  a  pious  saint,  who 
had  been  murdered  in  the  cause  of  Heaven  and 
Christianity. 

The  creduHty  or  the  craft  of  the  monks,  his  con- 
temporaries, saw  in  their  late  suffering  brother  a 
glorified  martyr,  at  whose  tomb,  and  at  the  place 
where  he  was  slain,  the  sick  were  cured,  the  blind 
received  sight,  and  the  lame  walked.  All  these 
gross  exaggerations  were  believed  at  the  time,  and 
the  king  was  overwhelmed  by  the  torrent  of  odium 
which  he  suffered  on  account  of  Becket's  death, 
insomuch  that  he  was  fain  to  yield  up  the  honoura- 
ble, manly,  and  able  defence,  which  he  had  hitherto 
made  against  the  papal  usurpations,  in  order  to  obtain 
a  reconciliation  with  the  church  on  the  most  unfa- 
vourable conditions. 

By  these  articles,  the  king  was  obliged  to  pay  a 
large  sum  of  money,  and  engage  in  a  crusade  against 
the  infidels,  either  in  Palestine  or  Spain  ;  above  all, 
to  permit,  what  he  had  hitherto  strongly  resisted,  an 
appeal  to  the  Pope  in  all  things  ecclesiastical.  He 
became  bound  to  restore  the  friends  of  Becket  to 
Jiis  favour,  and  finally,  to  discharge  a  most  humilia- 
ting and  disgraceful  penance,  in  evidence  of  his 
sorrow  for  the  rash  words  which  proved  the  cause  of 
the  murder. 

Louis,  King  of  France,  was  not  idle  during  an 
interval  when  his  ancient  enemy's  usual  good  fortune 
seemed  to  desert  him,  and  when  the  boasted  saga- 
city of  Henry  appeared  entangled  with  embarrass- 
ments, from  which  it  could  not  extricate  him.  The 
French  king  was  neither  slow  in  seeking  out  a  just 
cause  of  quarrel,  nor  in  the  choice  of  means  by 
which  to  prosecute  it.  He  at  first  pretended  dis- 
pleasure against  Henry  for  having  caused  his  eldest 


QUARREL  WITH  HENRY.  209 


son  to  be  crowned  in  England  as  successor  to  that 
kingdom,while  the  wife  of  that  young  prince,  Margaret 
Princess  of  France,  was  still  in  her  native  country. 
But  Henry  deprived  Louis  of  that  pretence  for  a 
rupture,  by  expressing  his  willingness  to  repeat  the 
ceremony  of  coronation. 

The  King  of  France  then  adopted  a  more  subtle, 
but  certainly  most  unjustifiable  mode  of  assailing  an 
adversary  who  had  proved  too  powerful  for  him 
while  he  followed  the  ordinary  rules  of  open  hostility. 
Louis  requested  the  presence  of  his  daughter  and 
his  son-in-law,  the  younger  Henry,  for  some  time  at 
the  French  court.  The  English  princes  of  the  Nor- 
man race  were  never  remarkable  for  domestic  affec- 
tion ;  and,  from  the  time  of  the  Conqueror  down- 
ward, it  had  been  no  unusual  thing  in  that  house  to 
see  the  son  in  arms  against  the  father.  Louis,  there- 
fore, found  no  great  difficulty  in  insinuating  into  the 
mind  of  the  younger  Henry,  that  his  father  kept  the 
throne  too  long,  and  did  not  indulge  him,  though 
crowned,  with  a  sufficient  share  of  independent 
power. 

When  the  young  prince  returned  to  England,  he 
instilled  the  same  spirit  of  unnatural  ambition  into 
his  brothers,  Richard,  (afterwards  the  renowned 
Coeur  de  Lion,)  and  Geoffrey.  John,  the  fourth  and 
youngest  brother,  was  not  of  age  to  take  a  share  in 
the  family  quarrel.  But  Queen  Eleanor,  the  mother 
of  the  princes,  had  been  for  some  time  dissatisfied 
with  the  share  which  the  king  allowed  to  her  in  his 
councils  and  affections  ;  and,  as  we  have  already 
alluded  to  her  arrogant  and  vindictive  disposition, 
you  must  not  wonder  if  she  took  all  the  means  in  her 
power  to  inflame  the  bad  passions  of  her  three  elder 
18* 


210  CONFEDERACY    AGAINST    HENRY    11. 

sons,  and  induce  them  to  unite  in  a  league  with  the 
King  of  France  against  their  father. 

The  pretext  used  by  Louis  le  Jeune  for  thus  set- 
ting up  the  title  of  the  son  against  the  father,  was, 
that  when  Henry,  called  the  young  king,  was  crown- 
ed, Henry  H.  was,  by  the  same  ceremony,  deprived 
of  the  sovereign  power,  which  was  thereby  transfer- 
red to  his  son.  Yet  Louis  knew,  that  the  corona- 
tion of  a  son  during  his  father's  litetime  was  by  no 
means  to  be  understood  as  inferring  the  vacation  of 
the  throne  on  the  part  of  the  latter,  but  only  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  son's  right  in  the  succession 
to  the  authority  which  the  father  continued  to  hold 
during  his  life. 

The  King  of  Scotland  was  engaged  in  the  same 
confederacy,  and  several  of  the  great  barons  of 
England  were  ripe  for  rebellion.  This  formidable 
league  was  entered  into  at  a  time  when  Henry  was 
on  the  worst  terms  with  the  Pope,  and  odious  to  all 
the  priest-ridden  part  of  his  subjects,  on  account  of 
the  death  of  Becket.  It  was  even  thought,  so  gen- 
eral was  the  disaffection,  that  Henry  IL  would  have 
had  difficulty  in  raising  an  army  among  his  feuda- 
tories. But  he  had  been  a  prudent  economist,  and 
now  made  the  treasures  he  had  amassed  the  means 
of  saving  his  throne  at  this  conjunction,  without 
trusting  to  those  vassals  who  might  have  betrayed 
his  cause.  He  hired  a  large  body  of  German  mer- 
cenaries, men  who  now  for  many  years  had  gained  a 
living  by  their  swords,  and  who  were  ready  to  em- 
brace the  cause  of  any  prince  in  Europe  who  re- 
quired their  services,  and  was  willing  to  pay  for 
them. 

At  the  head  of  these  forces,  and  seconded  by  his 
own  admirable  rapidity  of  action,  which  was  so  great, 


PENANCE    OF    HENRY.  211 

that  his  antagonist,  Louis,  confessed  that  the  Eng- 
lish prince  seemed  rather  to  fly,  than  to  sail  or  to 
march,  Henry  took  the  field.  He  opposed  himself 
every  where  to  his  enemies,  defeated  the  rebels,  and, 
offering  battle  to  the  great  head  of  the  confederacy, 
had  the  pleasure  to  see  Louis  le  Jeune  retreat  before 
him,  with  much  abatement  of  honour.  Henry 
brought  his  mind  also,  in  the  midst  of  these  difficul- 
ties, to  submit  to  the  most  degrading  part  of  the 
penance  inflicted  on  account  of  Becket's  death;  not, 
we  may  well  suppose,  that  so  wise  a  prince  could 
really  have  entertained  compunction  for  the  very 
slight  share  which  he  had  in  the  death  of  a  rebellious 
and  turbulent  priest,  but  because  he  was  aware  of  the 
interest  he  would  gain  in  the  hearts  of  his  people, 
by  their  supposing  him  fully  reconciled  with  Heaven, 
for  what  they  considered  a  great  crime. 

When  the  king  came  within  sight  of  the  tower 
1174'  of  the  Cathedral  of  Canterbury,  he  dismount- 
ed from  horseback,  and  proceeded  to  the  shrine 
of  Becket,  barefooted,  over  a  flinty  road,  which  he 
stained  with  his  blood.  When  he  kneeled  before  the 
tomb  of  his  old  enemy,  whose  life  had  cost  him  bo 
much  trouble,  and  whose  death  had  been  yet  a  deeper 
source  of  embarrassment,  he  submitted  to  be  publicly 
scourged  by  the  monks  of  the  convent,  and  by  other 
churchmen  present,  from  each  of  whom  he  received 
three  or  four  stripes  on  his  bare  shoulders. 

In  consequence  of  these,  and  other  austere  pen- 
ances, Henry  incurred  a  short  fit  of  illness.  But  he 
appears  to  have  conceived  that  he  had  entirely  recon- 
ciled himself  with  Thomas  a  Becket,  for,  as  that  per- 
son became  rather  a  fashionable  saint  in  foreign 
countries,  Henry,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  accom- 


212  POPULARITY    OF    BECKET  S    SHRINE. 

panied  to  the  shrine  several  persons  of  high  rank,  who 
came  from  the  continent  to  worship  there  ;  acting  thus 
as  a  sort  of  master  of  ceremonies  to  his  former  chan- 
cellor, whom,  indeed,  he  had  the  principal  hand  in 
raising  to  his  state  of  beatitude.  Notwithstanding 
all  this  apparent  submission,  Henry  retained  in  pri- 
vate his  own  opinion  on  Becket's  conduct.  A  bishop 
having  rashly  and  hastily  excommunicated  one  of 
his  nobles,  the  king  advised  his  prelates  to  avoid 
precipitance  on  such  occasions.  "  There  may  be 
more  bishops  killed  for  their  arrogance,"  said  the 
king,  significantly,  "  than  the  calendar  of  saints  can 
find  room  for." 

To  Louis  le  Jeune,  who  was  soon  tired  of  wars, 
if  long  protracted  and  unsuccessful,  it  appeared  that 
the  good  fortune  of  Henry  was  returning  in  its  usual 
high  tide,  and  it  was  consistent  with  his  own  charac- 
ter, to  ascribe  it  to  the  reconciliation  of  his  enemy 
with  Thomas  a  Becket.  It  is  certain  that,  a  very 
few  days  after  his  penance,  Henry  received  tidings 
of  an  action  near  Durham,  in  which  William,  King 
of  Scotland,  became  prisoner  to  his  northern  barons  ; 
and,  in  the  very  same  year,  Louis  had  himself  a 
nearer  instance  of  Henry's  reviving  good  fortune, 
when  the  English  monarch  reUeved  Rouen,  then 
closely  besieged,  and  compelled  the  joint  armies  of 
France  and  Flanders  to  retire  from  before  it. 

This  chain  of  events  had  a  practical  effect  upon  the 
king  of  France.  He  sent  ambassadors  to  treat  for 
peace,  to  which  Henry,  satisfied  with  his  success, 
and  conscious  at  what  risk  he  had  won  it,  willingly 
assented.  He  settled  liberal  appanages  upon  the 
three  young  princes,  Henry,  Richard,  and  Geoffrey, 
and  endeavoured  to  secure  their  affections  in  future, 


PROPOSAL    or    A    CPwUSADE.  2  IS 

by  even  profuse  allowances  of  domains  and  re- 
venues. 

The  greatest  satisfaction  which  Louis  received 
from  a  peace,  in  which  all  the  objects  for  which  the 
war  was  undertaken  were  relinquished,  was  the  hope 
that  Henry  might  be  induced  to  join  him  in  a  mu- 
tual crusade  ;  so  fondly  was  his  imagination,  though 
now  that  of  an  aged  man,  bent  upon  the  subject 
which  had  occupied  his  youth.  Henry,  on  his  part, 
was  under  the  necessity  of  apparently  consenting  to 
this  wild  proposal ;  for  it  was  a  part  of  the  penance 
enjoined  him  for  the  death  of  Becket,  that  he  should 
take  the  cross  and  pass  to  the  Holy  Land,  when- 
ever commanded  to  do  so  by  the  Pope. 

The  Pontiff,  therefore,  having  joined  the  solici- 
tation of  Louis,  it  was  not  in  the  king  of  England's 
choice  to  evade  the  summons.  Regulations  were 
accordingly  adopted  between  the  two  monarchs,  for 
arranging  their  mutual  relations,  in  the  manner  most 
suitable  to  the  success  of  their  undertaking.  There 
is  little  doubt,  however,  that  Henry,  though  the  au- 
thority of  the  Pope  was  at  present  too  great  to  be 
openly  disputed,  was  secretly  determined  to  take 
every  opportunity,  or  pretext,  that  might  occur,  to 
postpone,  and  finally  to  evade,  carrying  into  actual 
effect  this  useless  and  perilous  expedition. 

The  French  King,  on  the  contrary,  was  perfectly 
serious,  in  his  idea  of  renewing,  conjoined  with 
Henry,  the  rash  and  ruinous  attempt  of  his  youth, 
and  was  determined  to  provide  for  the  government 
of  his  kingdom  in  his  absence,  by  crowning  his  son 
Philip,  a  youth  of  the  highest  expectations,  as  his 
associate  and  successor  in  the  French  throne. 

A  singular  circumstance  prevented  the  ceremony  : 
The  young  prince,  Philip,  who  was  to  be  the  principal 


214  CORONATION    OF    PHILIP 

actor  in  it,  was  separated  from  his  attendants,  while 
on  a  hunting  party,  in  the  Forest  of  Compeigne,  lost 
his  way  among  the  wild  and  solitary  woods,  and 
wandered  there  all  night.  The  youth  was  exhaust- 
ed by  fatigue,  and  severely  affected  by  the  agony  of 
mind  which  he  had  undergone.  The  consequence' 
was  a  dangerous  illness.  The  remedies  of  Louis 
le  Jeune,  for  every  emergency,  were  always  tinged 
with  superstition  ;  and  in  the  hope  of  aiding  his  son's 
recovery,  he  vowed  a  pilgrimage  to  the  popular 
shrine  of  Thomas  a  Becket,  where  he  paid  his  devo- 
tions with  valuable  offerings,  and,  among  others,  a 
grant  to  the  convent  of  a  hundred  tons  of  French 
A.  D.  wine  annually, — an  acceptable  provision,  no 
1179.  doubt,  for  the  comfort  of  the  monks.  He 
instantly  returned  to  France,  and  was  escorted  by 
King  Henry,  as  far  as  Dover.  On  reaching  home, 
he  found  his  son  recovered,  the  renown  of  which 
greatly  added  to  the  resort  of  pilgrims  to  the  tomb 
of  Thomas  a  Becket. 

The  sickness  was,  however,  only  transferred  from 
the  son  to  the  father,  for  Louis  himself  was  struck 
with  a  palsy.  The  coronation  of  Philip  took  place 
soon  afterwards,  though  his  father  could  not  be  pre- 
sent, and  it  was  remarkable  that  Philip,  weak  from 
his  late  illness,  being  oppressed  with  the  weight  of 
the  crown,  Henry  the  younger,  of  England,  lent  his 
assistance  to  support  it  upon  the  young  king's  head. 
With  what  internal  feelings  he  might  perform  this 
feudal  service,  may  be  at  least  doubtful  ;  for,  in  case 
of  the  death  of  this,  the  only  son  of  Louis  le  Jeune, 
the  same  Prince  Henry,  if  his  wife,  Margaret,  should 
be  found  capable  of  succession,  was  next  heir  to  the 
crown  he  sustained,  at  his  brother-in-law's  corona- 
tion. 


ACCESSION    OP    PHILIP.  215 

In  the  next  year,  Louis  le  Jeune  died.  He  a.  d. 
was  a  prince  of  many  excellent  personal  quali-  1180. 
ties,  brave,  well-meaning,  temperate,  and  honest ; 
but  he  was  neither  a  general  nor  a  politician,  and 
his  devotion  was  of  so  superstitious  a  character, 
that,  while  his  conscience  scrupled  to  transgress  the 
most  trival  forms,  he  could,  on  the  first  important 
occasion,  if  policy  seemed  to  render  it  advantageous, 
break  his  faith  without  scruple,  in  matters  of  the 
most  weighty  moral  obligation. 


CHAPTER  Xn, 


Philip,  the  son  of  Louis  le  Jeune,  was  a  prince 
possessing  so  many  kingly  qualities,  that,  in  French 
history,  he  is  distinguished  from  other  monarchs  of 
the  same  name,  by  the  imperial  title  of  Augustus  ; 
and  not  unjustly,  since  it  was  chiefly  by  his  means 
that  the  royal  house  of  France  recovered  that  influ- 
ence in  their  empire  which,  during  the  life  of  Louis, 
had  been  in  a  great  measure  overshaded  by  the  pre- 
dominance of  the  house  of  Anjou,  whose  power, 
carefully  augmented  by  the  wisdom  of  Henry  IL, 
had  placed  that  monarch  in  the  situation  rather  of  a 
rival  than  a  vassal  of  the  King  of  France.  On  Phi- 
hp's  accession  to  the  throne,  he  was  not  yet  fifteen 
years  of  age  ;  and  it  is  probable  he  felt  that  his  ex- 
treme youth,  joined  to  the  feebleness  of  his  father's 
character,  was  likely  to  render  the  authority  of  the 
crown  contemptible,  unless  respect  was  to  be  ensu- 


216  DISPERSION    OF    MERCENARIES. 

red  to  it  by  the  firmness  and  gravity  of  the  prince 
who  wore  it. 

Accordingly,  the  first  public  measure  of  Philip 
was  one  of  a  more  severe  character  than  could  have 
been  expected  from  so  young  a  monarch.  All  jes- 
ters, jugglers,  and  buffoons,  whose  idle  occupation 
it  was  to  encourage  dissipation  and  misuse  of  time, 
were  banished  from  the  court  by  a  solemn  edict, 
which  the  king  caused  to  be  rigorously  enforced. 
By  this  his  people  learned  that  their  young  king 
proposed  to  assume  the  masculine  gravity  of  a  more 
advanced  age,  and  remove  from  about  his  person  all 
incentives  to  the  light  taste  and  unprofitable  follies 
of  youth. 

In  another  of  his  early  measures,  Philip  consulted, 
in  an  eminent  degree,  the  advantage  of  his  subjects 
and  realm.  The  constant  wars  of  France,  a  coun- 
try which  seldom  remained  at  rest  for  a  year  together, 
without  the  assembling  of  forces  upon  some  pre- 
tence or  other,  had  given  occasion  to  the  association 
of  numerous  vagrant  bands  of  men,  whose  profession 
was  arms,  and  who,  without  any  regard  to  the  cause 
in  which  they  served,  or  the  monarch  to  whom  they 
rendered  obedience,  were  ready  to  engage  their  skill 
and  valour  in  behalf  of  any  prince  who  was  willing 
to  employ  them.  They  were,  generally,  experienced 
and  approved  soldiers,  and  piqued  themselves  on 
maintaining  strict  fidelity  during  the  terms  of  they* 
engagement,  and  serving  with  loyalty  the  prince  to 
whom  they  were  hired. 

Such  mercenaries,  were,  therefore,  a  needful  but 
perilous  resource  during  this  time  of  constant  war, 
and  even  the  politic  and  sagacious  Henry  11. ,  when 
hard  pressed  by  the  leauge  formed  against  him  by 
Louis  le  Jeune,  found  his  safety  in  recruiting  his 


DISPERSION    OP    MERCENARIES.  217 

exhausted  army  with  great  numbers  of  these  mer- 
cenary bands.  But  although  a  necessary,  at  least 
a  prompt  and  useful  resource  to  princes  in  time  of 
war,  nothing  could  be  more  oppressive  to  the  people 
in  the  season  of  peace,  than  the  existence  of  nume- 
rous bands  of  various  nations  leading  an  idle  and  dis- 
solute life,  at  the  expense  of  the  oppressed  pea- 
santry, and  breaking  every  law  of  regulated  society, 
without  a  possibility  of  bringing  them  to  justice  ex- 
cept by  a  pitched  battle. 

Where  their  depredations  were  withstood,  they 
naturally  drew  their  bands  closer  together,  laid  the 
country  under  contribution,  and  obliged  the  cities, 
on  peril  of  assault  and  pillage,  to  pay  large  sums  for 
their  maintenance.  These  troops  of  lawless  depre- 
dators were  distinguished  by  the  names  of  Cotte- 
raux,  Brabangons,  Routiers,  and  Tavardins.  Philip 
commanded  his  soldiers  to  assist  the  burghers  of  the 
good  towns  against  these  disorderly  freebooters,  and 
he  himself  engaged  and  defeated  them  in  one  great 
action,  in  which  nine  thousand  were  slain  in  the  bat- 
tle and  flight.  By  these  exertions,  this  wasting 
plague  of  the  country  was  in  a  great  measure  check- 
ed and  reformed,  although  it  continued  to  be  an  ex- 
isting grievance  until  a  much  later  period  of  French 
history. 

With  the  same  attention  to  the  public  advantage, 
Phihp  compelled  the  citizens  of  the  large  towns  to 
pave  their  streets,  and  to  surround  their  cities  with 
walls  and  fortifications,  so  as  to  ensure  the  power 
of  repulsing  the  attacks  of  these  roving  brigands. 
The  burghers  disliked  the  expense  of  labour  and 
treasure  laid  out  upon  this  important  object.  But 
the  king  in  person  made  a  circuit  around  the  cities 
of  his  kingdom,  to  enforce  the  execution  of  his 

VOL,  I.  19 


218  CABALS    OF    HENRY    II. 's    CHILDREN. 

wholesome  edicts,  and  at  the  same  time  reduced  to 
order  such  of  the  nobility,  as,  avaihng  themselves 
of  the  late  king's  illness,  had  been  guilty  of  usurpa- 
tion upon  each  other,  or  encroachment  on  the  au- 
thority of  the  sovereign. 

The  measures  he  pursued  for  the  public  good, 
gave  a  favourable  character  to  the  reign  of  Philip 
Augustus.  His  intercourse  with  his  contemporary 
princes  was  not  so  uniformly  praiseworthy. 

It  must  be  supposed,  that  Henry  of  England 
entertained  no  small  apprehension  of  the  increasing^ 
influence  of  a  young  prince,  who,  M'ith  better  judg- 
ment than  his  father  Louis,  entertained  the  same 
jealousy  of  the  overgrown  power  of  his  vassal  of 
Normandy.  These  apprehensions  became  yet  more 
alarming,  when  the  King  of  England  found  that  his 
children,  Henry,  Richard,  and  Geoffirey,  to  whom 
John,  the  youngest  of  the  brethren,  now  joined 
himself,  were  engaged  in  intrigues  with  the  King  of 
France,  in  order  to  obtain  a  portion  of  Henry's 
English  dominions,  as  a  reward  for  lending  their 
assistance  to  Philip,  to  strip  their  father  of  the 
whole. 

Embarrassing  as  were  these  unnatural  cabals,  the 
manner  in  which  the  King  of  England  was  freed 
from  them  in  the  case  of  Henry,  his  eldest  son,  was 
yet  more  afflicting  to  the  father.  An  express  brought 
the  news  that  his  son  had  indeed  repented  of  his 
filial  ingratitude,  but  it  was  coupled  with  the  tidings 
that  the  youth  lay  on  his  death-bed,  and  implored 
his  father's  blessing  and  forgiveness.  So  great  was 
the  king's  suspicion  of  those  about  the  younger 
Henry,  that  he  was  afraid  to  intrust  his  royal  person 
in  their  hands,  even  on  this  pressing  occasion. 
Controlling,  therefore,  his  desire  to  fly  to  the   sick 


219  DEATH    OP    HIS    ELDEST    SON. 

bed  of  his  son,  the  king  sent  him  his  pardon,  his 
blessing,  and  a  ring  of  gold,  as  a  well-known  token 
to  assure  him  of  both.  The  dying  penitent,  to  show 
the  sincerity  of  his  repentance,  tied  a  halter  about 
his  neck,  arrayed  himself  in  sackcloth,  and  com- 
manded himself  to  be  stretched  upon  a  layer  a.  d. 
of  ashes,  and  in  this  manner  expired.  ll^^- 

The  aged  king  swooned  away  three  times  upon 
hearing  of  the  death  of  his  son,  and  broke  into  the 
most  unbounded  lamentations.  Besides  the  strength 
of  natural  affection,  Henry,  doubtless,  considered 
his  eldest  son,  when  he  should  be  recalled  to  the 
obedience  he  owed  his  father,  as  the  most  hkely  to 
assert  and  maintain  his  high  place  as  a  vassal  of  the 
French  crown.  He  had  by  no  means  the  same 
confidence  in  the  talents  of  his  other  sons,  and  was 
thus  altogether  inconsolable  for  the  death  of  his 
eldest  born. 

New  wars  and  misunderstandings  between  France 
and  England  arose  on  a  pretence  not  of  an  upright 
nature,  on  the  part  of  Henry.  Adelaide,  sister  to 
Philip,  King  of  France,  had  been  for  some  time 
residing  at  the  court  of  England,  under  the  paction 
that  she  was  to  be  united  to  Richard,  now  the  eldest 
surviving  son  of  Henry  II.  But  for  some  reasons, 
not  now  easily  ascertained,  the  King  of  England 
repeatedly  postponed  the  marriage,  so  as  to  bring 
himself  under  the  suspicion  that  he  entertained  a 
passion  for  the  young  princess,  neither  agreeable  to 
his  understanding  or  years. 

King  Philip  now  demanded  at  the  sword's  point 
the  settlement  of  his  sister's  marriage.  Other  causes 
of  discontent  constantly  arising  between  so  powerful 
a  superior  and  so  haughty  a  vassal,  exasperated  the 
dispute  on  both  sides  ;  nor  did  the  talents  of  Henry, 


220    WARS    BETWEEN    FRANCE    AND    ENGLAND. 

whom  age  had  somev/hat  deprived  of  his  activity, 
preserve  the  same  ascendency  over  the  youthful 
PhiHp,  which  they  had  exercised  over  his  father 
Louis  le  Jeune.  The  engagement  by  which  both 
monarchs  were  bound  to  embark  in  a  joint  crusade, 
suspended  the  progress  of  their  private  wars.  But, 
notwithstanding,  a  singular  incident  showed  a.  d. 
how  inveterate  was  the  quarrel  between  their  1188. 
subjects  as  well  as  themselves. 

The  monarchs  had  met  in  a  personal  conference 
in  a  plain  near  Gisors,  the  frontier  of  their  domi- 
nions, destitute  of  shade,  except  that  of  a  single 
venerable  elm  tree,  which  grew  on  the  Norman  side 
of  the  boundary.  The  sun  was  burning  hot ;  but, 
instead  of  admittnig  his  liege  sovereign,  the  King 
of  France,  to  a  share  of  the  shadow  of  the  elm  tree, 
Henry,  with  less  than  his  usual  courtesy,  protected 
himself  and  his  party  from  the  heat  under  the  boughs, 
from  which  they  excluded  Philip  and  his  followers. 
The  French,  incensed  at  this  assumption  of  superi- 
ority, though  in  a  matter  so  trifling,  and  further  pro- 
voked by  the  raillery  of  Henry's  attendants,  suddenly 
charged  the  English  sword  in  hand.  Henry  escaped 
with  difficulty  to  the  castle  of  Gisors,  several  of  his 
attendants  were  slain  in  his  defence,  and  Philip 
caused  the  elm  to  be  cut  down,  in  token  of  his  vic- 
tory. 

In  other  actions,  though  of  slight  importance, 
PhiHp  also  gained  some  superiority,  the  rather  that 
Richard,  the  son  of  Henry,  desirous  of  being  wedded 
to  the  Princess  Adelaide,  took  part  with  the  King  of 
France  against  his  father.  Henry's  youngest  son, 
John,  proved  also  disobedient,  like  his  other  chil- 
dren, but  in  a  more  unprovoked  and  unjustifiable 
degree.     The  king  of  England's  health  was  inno- 


DEATH    OF    HENRY    II.  221 

vated  upon  by  defeats  and  disgraces,  to  which  his 
earlier  years  had  been  altogether  strangers.  His 
feelings  were  racked  by  the  sense  of  his  children's 
ingratitude,  and  his  body  at  the  same  time  attacked 
by  a  fever.  On  his  death-bed,  he  declared  that 
Geoftrey,  his  natural  son,  whom  he  had  created 
chancellor,  was  the  only  one  of  his  family  who  had 
acted  towards  him  uniformly  with  filial  respect  and 
obedience.  In  this  melancholy  state,  grief  and 
mortification  aided  the  progress  of  the  fever  which 
raged  in  his  veins  ;  and  the  death  of  this  great  and 
intelligent  prince  removed  from  the  growing  and 
increasing  power  of  Philip  one  of  the  greatest  ob- 
stacles to  the  success  of  his  reign. 

The  King  of  France,  relieved  from  one  of  his 
most  constant  enemies,  now  formed  a  close  alliance 
with  Richard,  (called,  from  his  courage,  Coeur  de 
Lion,)  who,  succeeding  to  King  Henry's  crown, 
and  full  of  youthful  love  of  adventure,  made  himself 
a  voluntary  party  to  the  fatal  expedition  for  the 
restoration  of  the  fallen  kingdom  of  Jerusalem, 
which  his  father  had  engaged  in  so  unwilHngly,  and 
so  frequently  postponed.  Philip  of  France  readily 
adopted  him  as  brother  and  companion  of  his  enter- 
prise. 

The  characters  of  these  kings  had  a  near  resem- 
blance to  each  other.  Both  were  brave,  skilful  in 
war,  ambitious,  and  highly  desirous  of  honour. 
Both  also  appear  to  have  been,  upon  religious  prin- 
ciple, sincerely  bent  upon  their  romantic  expedition. 
But  the  character  of  Richard  united  the  most  des- 
perate courage  with  the  extremity  of  rashness  and 
obstinacy,  which  reduced  his  feats  of  valour  to  the 
extravagant  and  useless  exploits  of  an  actual  mad- 
man ;  whereas  Philip  combined  caution  and  policy 
19* 


222       POWER  OF  3ULTAN  SALADIN. 

with  a  high  pitch  of  valour,  and  was  by  far  a  more 
able  monarch  than  his  rival,  though  displaying  in  a 
less  degree  the  quajities  of  a  knight  of  romance. 

The  armies  of  the  confederate  princes  rendez- 
voused at  Lyons,  where  Philip  took  the  road  to 
Italy,  by  crossing  the  Alps,  in  order  to  embark  at 
Genoa,  while  Richard,  with  his  host,  took  shipping 
at  Marseilles. 

At  the  time  when  the  two  most  powerful  nations 
of  Christendom  took  arms  for  the  rescue  of  Pales- 
tine, a  country  which  their  superstitions  rendered  so 
important  to  them,  the  fragments  of  the  kingdom  of 
Godfrey  of  Boulogne  were  fast  disappearing  from 
their  sight.  Saladin,  King,  or  Sultan,  of  Egypt,  a 
prince  as  brave,  and  far  more  cool-headed  and 
sagacious  than  either  of  the  Christian  kings-errant 
who  came  to  attack  him,  and  rescue  Palestine  from 
his  victorious  sabre,  had  made  an  eminently  suc- 
cessful war  against  the  Latin  kingdom  of  Jerusa- 
lem. 

His  power  had  been  by  degrees  accumulating, 
and  the  power  of  an  Eastern  despot  must  usually 
bear  a  proportion  to  his  military  talents.  Saladin's, 
therefore,  was  considerable.  He  had  made  himself 
master  of  Egypt,  and  great  part  of  Syria,  and  pre- 
texts could  never  be  wanting  to  assail  the  kingdom 
of  Jerusalem  itself,  since,  besides  the  professed 
animosity  between  the  followers  of  Christianity  and 
of  Mahometanism,  Saladin  had  to  complain  of  the 
aggressions  of  a  freebooting  Christian  baron,  named 
Reginald  de  Chatillon,  who  had  seized  a  fortress  on 
the  verge  of  the  desert,  from  v/hich  ho  pillaged  the 
Eastern  caravans,  and  interrupted  the  pious  journey 
of  the  Mahometan  pilgrims  to  the  tomb  of  their 
Prophet  at  Mecca. 


STATE  OF  AFFAIRS  IN  PALESTINE.     223 

Jerusalem,  torn  to  pieces  by  intestine  divisions, 
seemed  to  be  tottering  to  its  fall,  when  Saladin  en- 
tered into  Palestine  at  the  head  of  eighty  thousand 
men.  Guy  of  Lusignan,  a  prince  of  no  talents,  had 
succeeded  to  the  crown  of  thorns.  He  raised  the 
whole  force  of  the  Holy  Land  to  repel  the  invasion; 
but  he  permitted  himself  to  be  deluded  by  Count 
Raymond  of  Tripoli,  who  maintained  a  correspon- 
dence with  Saladin. 

The  renegade  chief,  or  apostate,  betrayed  the 
Christian  army  into  ground  where  the  mail-clad 
knights  of  Europe  fainted  for  want  of  water,  and 
were  overwhelmed  by  the  arrows  of  the  light- 
mounted  infidels.  Lusignan  was  made  prisoner, 
with  the  loss  of  thirty  thousand  men. 

When,  fainting  with  thirst  and  agony  of  mind,  he 
was  brought  before  Saladin,  the  Mahometan  courte- 
ously presented  him  with  his  own  cup  of  sherbet, 
cooled  with  ice.     But  when  Lusignan  passed  the 
goblet  in  turn  to  Reginald  de  Chatillon,  who  had 
provoked   the  v/ar,    Saladin   instantly  severed  the 
freebooter's  head   from   his  body.      "  The  king's 
cup,"  he  said,  "  betokens  mercy.     Princes  do  not 
slaughter  captive  kings ;  but  robbers  like  this  are 
punished  with  death."     Many  of  the  military  orders 
of   Hospitallers  and  Templars,  v/ere  also  put  to 
death.     Jerusalem  did  not  remain  under  the 
Christian  power  for  a  fortnight  after  the  battle  ^{gy* 
of  Tiberias,  and   Saladin  became  master  of 
the  Holy  City. 

The  expulsion  of  the  Christians  from  Palestine 
was  not  yet  completed.  The  strong  city  of  Tyre 
was  valiantly  defended  by  Conrade  of  Montferrat ; 
and  the  victorious  Saladin  was  obliged  to  retire  from 
before  it,  with  considerable  loss. 


224  SIEGE    OF    ACRE. 


It  could  hardly  be  said  whether  the  loss  of  Jeru- 
salem, or  the  siege  of  Acre,  had  most  effect  in 
rousing  to  arms  the  warlike  nations  of  Europe  who 
pressed  forward  in  hosts  to  revenge  King  Guy  of 
Lusignan,  or  gain  glory  or  martyrdom  under  Con- 
rade  of  Montferrat.  The  multitude  of  adventurers 
from  Europe  enabled  the  king  of  Jerusalem,  whom 
Saladin  had  not  thought  worth  detaining  in  captivity, 
to  form  the  siege  of  Ptolemais,  or  Acre,  a  strong 
place,  possessing  an  excellent  harbour,  the  occupa- 
tion of  which  might  facilitate  greatly  the  arrival  of 
succours  from  Europe,  which  were  promised  on  all 
sides.  The  siege  of  Acre  had  lasted  till  the  spring 
of  the  second  year.  Saladin  had  pitched  his  camp, 
and  lay  with  his  numerous  followers  within  a  few 
leagues  of  the  town,  and  daily  skirmishes  took  place 
between  the  contending  armies.  In  the  meantime, 
the  new  crusade,  under  Philip  and  Richard,  began 
to  roll  towards  the  east. 

The  King  of  France  appeared  first  on  this  event- 
ful scene,  but  proved  unequal  to  decide  the  fate  of 
Acre,  though  he  tried  to  do  so  by  a  fierce  and  gene- 
ral assault.  Richard  came  soon  after,  having  lin- 
gered by  the  way  to  chastise  Isaac,  King  of  Cyprus, 
who  had  offended  him,  and  was  deprived  of  his 
dominions,  by  way  of  punishment.  On  the  arrival 
of  King  Richard  before  Acre,  (if  old  romances  and 
tradition  say  true,)  he  led  his  troops  to  the  assault 
in  person,  and  broke  down  a  postern  door  with  his 
strong  hand  and  weighty  battle-axe.  Leopold, 
Duke  of  Austria,  also  distinguished  himself  by  his 
personal  intrepidity,  for  which,  as  armorial  bearings 
were  then  coming  into  use,  the  emperor  is  said  to 
have  assigned  him  a  fesse  argent,  in  a  field  gules, 
to  express  that  his  person  had,  in  the  assault,  been 


JEALOUSY  BETWEEN  RICHARD  AND  PHILIP.    225 


covered  with  blood  from  head  to  foot,  except  the 
place  under  his  sword-belt. 

Saladin,  who  saw  the  fate  of  Acre  could  no 
longer  be  protracted,  gave  the  citizens  permisson  to 
make  the  best  terms  for  themselves  they  could,  and 
on  his  part  became  bound  to  set  all  Christian  cap- 
tives at  liberty,  and  to  restore  to  the  crusaders  the 
cross  on  which  our  Saviour  suffered, — at  least  a 
relic  which  bore  that  reputation,  and  which  had  been 
taken  by  him  at  the  battle  of  Tiberias.  But  Sala- 
din either  could  not,  or  did  not,  comply  with  these 
conditions.  The  impetuous  Richard  would  hear  of 
no  delay,  and  put  to  death  at  once  all  his  Mahome- 
tan prisoners,  to  the  number  of  seven  thousand 
men.  On  account  of  this  rashness  and  cruelty, 
Richard  sustained  the  just  blame  of  having  occa- 
sioned the  death  of  an  equal  number  of  Christians, 
prisoners  to  the  Sultan,  whom  Saladin  slaughtered 
by  the  way  of  reprisal. 

While  the  fiu-ious  Richard  was  thus  incurring 
public  censure,  he  had  the  mortification  to  see  Philip 
acquire,  at  his  cost,  the  praise  of  superior  wisdom 
and  moderation  ;  for,  by  protecting  his  Mahometan 
prisonei's  alive,  the  French  king  was  able  to  ex- 
change them  for  so  many  captive  Christians,  and 
thus  avoided  an  useless  v.tiste  of  life  upon  both 
sides.  The  difference  between  the  calm,  reason- 
able, and  politic  character  of  Philip,  began  to  be 
remarked  by  the  soldiers,  and,  though  the  common 
men  preferred  the  rude,  savage,  and  fearless  charac- 
ter of  the  English  monarch,  the  wise  and  experi- 
enced leaders  saw  higher  personal  qualities  in  his 
companion  and  rivnl,  and  accomplishments  more 
'beseeming  in  a  prince  who  would  make  his  people 
happy.     The    consciousness  that  they  were   thus 


226  DISSENSIONS  AMONG  THE  CRUSADERS. 

compared  together,  estimated,  and  preferred,  ac- 
cording to  men's  judgment  or  their  humour,  had  its 
usual  effect  of  inspiring  jealousy  betwixt  the  French 
and  English  kings,  nor  had  the  common  cause  in 
which  they  were  engaged  influence  enough  to  check 
their  animosities. 

Another  cause  of  discontent  was  occasioned  by 
Richard's  violence  of  temper  at  this  celebrated 
siege,  of  which  he  had  afterwards  much  personal 
occasion  to  rue  the  consequence.  When  the  city  of 
Acre  surrendered,  Leopold,  Duke  of  Austria,  assum- 
ing upon  the  merit,  in  virtue  of  which  a  new  armo- 
rial cognizance  had  been  assigned  him,  caused  his 
own  banner  to  be  displayed  from  the  principal  tower. 
The  fierce  temper  of  the  King  of  England  caught 
fire  at  the  Austrian's  arrogance,  and  he  commanded 
the  banner  to  be  pulled  down,  and  thrown  into  the 
ditch  of  the  place.  The  Duke  felt  the  indignity 
offered  to  him,  but  forbore  to  manifest  any  resent- 
ment till  time  and  circumstances  put  in  his  power 
ample  means  of  revenging  the  indignity,  though  with 
little  credit  to  his  faith  or  manhood. 

These  various  heart-burnings  gave  rise  to  parties 
in  the  camp  and  council  of  the  crusaders,  where 
Richard  attached  himself  to  Guy  de  Lusignan,  and 
Philip  took  the  part  of  the  gallant  Conrade  de  Mont- 
ferrat,  between  whom  there  occurred  many  feuds 
and  quarrels.  These  divisions  were  so  notorious, 
that  when  Conrade  was  slain  by  the  daggers  of  two 
of  the  tribe  called  Assassins,  being  the  followers  of 
the  Scheik,  or  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain,  it  was 
reported  that  they  had  been  suborned  by  Richard. 
Philip  affected  to  give  credit  to  a  charge  inconsistent 
with  the  manly,  though  violent  character  of  his  rival. 
The  French  monarch  selected  a  new  body-guard, 


PHILIP    ABANDONS    THE    ENTERPRISE.  227 

armed  with  iron  maces,  by  whom  he  caused  his 
person  to  be  watched  day  and  night.  Neither  were 
any  strangers  admitted  to  him  ;  precautions  which 
necessarily  impUed  suspicions  dishonourable  to 
Cceur  de  Lion. 

With  whatever  views  Philip  of  France  had  origi- 
nally undertaken  the  crusade,  he  quickly  found  that 
the  enterprise  was  of  a  ruinous  and  desperate  na- 
ture, and  that  even  the  barren  laurels  which  must 
suffice  as  a  reward  for  health,  riches,  and  armies 
wasted  in  Palestine,  would  fall  ni  an  undue  share  to 
his  partner  in  the  undertaking,  whose  reckless  va- 
lour and  insatiable  desire  of  military  renown,  made 
Richard  more  fitted  than  his  rival  for  the  insane  ad- 
venture in  which  they  were  engaged,  and  better  qua- 
lified to  meet  the  peculiar  difficulties  which  they  had 
to  encounter. 

The  arrogant  and  capricious  character  of  the 
EogHsh  king  required  also  to  be  soothed  and  kept  in 
temper  with  more  attention  and  deference,  than  a 
monarch  like  Philip  could  find  it  agreeable  to  pay  to 
a  prince  who  was  in  some  degree  his  inferior,  in  so 
far  that  he  paid  him  homage  for  a  large  part  of  his 
dominions.  Nor  did  it  escape  Philip's  discernment, 
that  if  he  made  use  at  home  of  the  troops  and  trea- 
sure which  he  was  likely  to  expend  in  the  fruitless 
prosecution  of  the  purposes  of  the  crusade,  he  might 
avail  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  annex  to  the 
crown  of  France  the  fiefs  of  some  of  those  great 
vassals  who  were  daily  falling  in  the  wars  of  Pales- 
tine. 

He  might  also  urge  his  purpose  of  withdrawing 
from  the  Holy  War,  upon  grounds  which  promised 
advantage  to  the  prosecution  of  it.  For  as  he  and 
Richard,  being  in  one  point  of  view  of  equal  rank. 


228     Philip's  return  to  France. 

ao-reed  so  very  ill,  and  distracted  the  councils  of 
the  crusading  powers  by  their  rival  pretensions  and 
contradictory  opinions,  it  seemed  that  Philip,  by 
withdrawing  from  the  enterprise,  removed  a  source 
of  disagreement  which  was  a  principal  obstacle  to 
their  success.  For  these  reasons,  real  or  ostensible, 
the  French  king  determined  to  return  from  Pales- 
tine to  his  own  country ;  and  to  silence  the  re- 
proaches of  those  who  upbraided  him  with  desert- 
ing the  cause  of  Christendom,  he  left  in  Syria  a 
strong  division  of  ten  thousand  picked  troops,  with 
five  hundred  men-at-arms,  to  co-operate  in  the  task 
of  recovering  the  Holy  Sepulchre. 

It  was  necessary  also  to  satisfy,  at  least  to  stop, 
the  complaints  of  Richard,  who  alleged,  as  a  leading 
motive  of  Philip's  return,  his  purpose  of  making 
war  upon  the  English  monarch  in  Normandy  and 
his  other  French  dominions.  To  escape  this  scan- 
dalous suspicion,  the  King  of  France,  before  his 
departure  for  Europe,  pledged  a  solemn  vow  to  King 
Richard,  not  to  attack  any  of  his  dominions,  nor 
dispossess  any  of  his  vassals,  while  he  was  absent 
in  the  crusade.  Yet,  when  Philip  passed  through 
Rome  on  his  return  home,  he  made  as  much  interest 
as  he  could  with  the  reigning  Pope,  (Celestine  III.,) 
that  he  might  be  absolved  from  the  oath  which  he 
had  pledged  to  Richard  to  the  above  effect. 

Philip,  whose  first  wife  had  died  during  his  ab- 
sence in  the  Holy  Land,  had  no  sooner  returned  to 
his  own  kingdom,  than  he  resolved  to  marry  for  a 
second,  Ingerberge,  sister  of  Canute,  King  of  Den- 
mark. With  this  princess,  it  vv'as  his  object  to  attain 
a  transference  of  all  the  rights  competent  to  her 
family,  (descended  of  the  famous  Canute,  King  of 
England,)  and  obtain  thereby  a  pretext  for  invading 


ACHIEVEMENTS    OF    RICHARD.  229 

England,  as  if  the  throne  of  that  kingdom  had  been 
unlawfully  possessed  by  the  dynasty  of  Anjou.  But 
the  Danish  monarch  did  not  choose  to  transfer  his 
claims,  for  the  purpose  of  affording  Philip  the  pre- 
text he  desired  for  attacking  his  late  brother  and 
companion  in  arms,  while  engaged  in  the  religious 
warfare  to  which  they  had  both  been  sworn.  The 
plans  of  Philip  were  disconcerted  by  this  refusal. 

The  King  of  France,  whose  conduct  on  this 
occasion  neither  merits  the  epithet  of  Most  Chris- 
tian, bestowed  on  the  sovereigns  of  his  race,  nor 
that  of  August,  given  to  distinguish  him  individually, 
sought  a  new  and  discreditable  channel  through 
which  to  strike  at  his  enemy.  He  formed  a  close 
alliance  with  John,  brother  of  Richard,  and  youngest 
son  of  Henry  H.  This  prince,  one  of  the  worst 
men  who  afflicted  these  evil  times,  was  as  easily  in- 
duced to  make  efforts  to  usurp  the  territories  of  a 
generous  brother,  as  he  had  been  formerly  found 
ready  to  rebel  against  his  indulgent  father,  and  he 
seems  readily  to  have  agreed,  that  Philip  should  be 
at  liberty  to  work  his  pleasure  upon  Richard's  domi- 
nions in  France,  provided  he  was  admitted  to  his 
share  of  the  spoil. 

In  the  meantime,  while  his  European  dominions 
were  thus  exposed  to  an  ungrateful  brother  and  a 
faithless  ally,  Richard  was  rivalling  in  the  Holy 
Land  the  imaginary  actions  of  the  champions  of 
romance.  He  conquered  Cesarea  and  Jaffa  ;  he 
drove  Saladin  before  him  for  eleven  days  of  contin- 
ued battle.  He  defied  armies  with  a  handful  of  men, 
and  challenged  to  combat,  in  his  own  person,  an 
extended  line  of  thousands,  not  one  of  whom  dared 
quit  their  ranks  to  encounter  him.  He  even  came 
within  sight  of  Jerusalem,  but  declined  to  look  upon 

VOL.  I.  20 


230  IMPRISONMENT    OP    RICHARD. 

■  '  • 

the  sepulchre,  which  he  found  himself  not  strong 
enough  to  gain  by  battle.  In  the  midst  of  these 
wonders,  Richard  was  recalled  by  the  news  of  the 
intrigues  of  John  and  Philip.  He  embarked  with 
precipitation,  having  patched  up  a  hasty  peace  with 
Saladin,  and  leaving  a  name  in  the  East,  with  which, 
long  after,  the  Saracens  were  wont  to  upbraid  a 
starting  horse,  demanding  if  he  thought  the  bush 
was  King  Richard,  that  he  sprang  aside  from  it ! 

Richard's  embarkation  was  the  beginning  of  a  series 
of  calamities,  which  gave  the  King  of  France  time 
to  arrange  his  perfidious  plans.  The  King  of  Eng- 
land was  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of  Dalrnatia,  and 
was  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  that  very  Duke  of 
Austria,  whom  he  had  affronted,  by  displacing  his 
standard  at  Acre.  Leopold  meanly  seized  the  op- 
portunity of  vengeance  which  chance  afforded  him^ 
and  threw  the  unhappy  prince  into  prison,  charging 
him  with  many  crimes  alleged  to  have  been  commit- 
ted in  Palestine.  His  place  of  confinement  was 
for  some  time  kept  concealed,  and  the  story  how  it 
was  discovered,  though  well  known,  is  worthy  of 
mention. 

It  was  no  part  of  Richard's  character  to  be,  like 
his  rival  Philip,  a  hater  of  music  or  minstrelsy.  On 
the  contrary,  he  was  an  admirer  of  what  was,  at  that 
time,  called  the  Gay  Science^  and  often  practised  the 
arts  of  song  and  music  himself.  Blondel  de  Nesle, 
a  favourite  minstrel,  who  had  attended  his  person, 
devoted  himself  to  discover  the  place  of  his  confine- 
ment. He  wandered  in  vain,  from  castle  to  palace, 
till  he  learned  that  a  strong,  and  almost  inaccessible 
fortress,  upon  the  Danube,  was  watched  with  pecu- 
liar strictness,  as  containing  some  state  prisoner  of 
distinction. 


IMPRISONMENT    OF    RICHARD.  231 

The  minstrel  took  his  harp,  and  approaching  as 
near  the  castle  as  he  durst,  came  so  nigh  the  walls 
as  to  hear  the  melancholy  captive  soothing  his  im- 
prisonment with  music.  Blondel  touched  his  harp  ; 
the  prisoner  heard  and  was  silent :  upon  this  the 
minstrel  played  the  first  part  of  a  tune,  or  lay,  known 
to  the  captive,  who  instantly  played  the  second  part ; 
and  thus  the  faithful  servant  obtained  the  certainty 
that  the  inmate  of  the  castle  was  no  other  than  his 
royal  master.  It  is  uncertain  if  Blondel  carried 
news  of  Richard's  imprisonment  to  the  emperor,  but 
such  news  reached  him.  The  emperor  compelled 
the  Duke  of  Austria  to  surrender  his  person,  and 
being  a  rough,  ungenerous  man,  he  seems  only  to 
have  considered  how  much  money  he  could  extort 
by  having  in  his  power  one  of  the  richest,  as  well  as 
most  powerful  sovereigns  in  Chi'istendom,  the  only 
cause  of  whose  imprisonment  was  the  misfortune 
that  threw  him  on  the  coast. 

Philip,  hearing  of  Richard's  captivity  in  Germany, 
offered,  it  is  said,  a  sum  of  money,  provided  the 
emperor  would  dehver  Cceur  de  Lion  into  his  hands. 
Perhaps  the  emperor  thought  it  would  be  too  detri- 
mental to  his  reputation,  were  he  to  make  such  a 
transference  ;  but  although  he  refused  so  dishonour- 
able a  treaty,  he  failed  not,  for  some  time,  to  lend  a 
favourable  ear  to  many  specious  reasons  urged  by 
Philip  for  detaining  his  late  ally  in  close  confine- 
ment. 

Meantime,  the  selfish  King  of  France  formed  a  fresh 
contract  with  Prince  John,  by  which  the  unnatural 
brother  was  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  assert  a  claim 
to  the  crown  of  England,  while  Richard's  French 
territories  in  Normandy  and  elsewhere,  were  to  fall 
to  Philip's  share  ;   and,  that  no  form  might  be  want- 


232  LIBERATION    OF    RICHARD. 

ing,  the  French  king  dispatched  a  herald  to  denounce 
war  against  Richard,  then  a  close  prisoner.  The 
forms  of  public  faith  are  seldom  observed  with  such 
rigid  technicality,  as  when  they  are  used  as  a  cloak 
to  carry  into  execution  what  is,  in  fact,  flagrant 
injustice.  Accordingly,  Philip,  after  using  this  un- 
necessary and  absurd  form  of  defiance  against  a 
defenceless  captive,  assaulted,  upon  various  pre- 
texts, the  frontiers  of  Normandy,  and  made  con- 
quests there,  bestowing  towns  on  his  ally,  John,  or 
retaining  them  to  himself,  at  his  pleasure  ;  and 
explaining  to  such  of  his  chivalry  or  allies  as  enter- 
tained, or  affected,  a  disinclination  to  such  unjust 
procedure,  that  he  did  not  attack  Richard  in  breach 
of  his  oath,  but  in  consequence  of  old  causes  of 
quarrel  about  his  sister's  portion.  While  Philip  was 
preparing  for  his  imperial  title  of  Augustus, by  a  sys- 
tem of  spoliation  resembling  that  of  a  Roman  empe- 
ror, he  received  sudden  intelligence,  that  the  large 
ransom  which  the  emperor's  avarice  had  set  on  the 
freedom  of  Richard,  had  been  at  length  defrayed  by 
the  loyalty  of  his  subjects.  He  communicated  the 
alarming  news  to  his  associate,  John,  in  the  expres- 
sive phrase,  "  Have  a  care  of  yourself — the  devil  is 
loose  !" 

Whatever  alarm  these  words  might  imply,  Philip 
knew  that  no  pause  in  his  ambitious  project  would 
secure  him  from  Richard's  resentment,  now  that  the 
captive  lion  had  obtained  his  liberty.  He  therefore 
did  not  even  attempt  to  disguise  his  enmity ;  he 
openly  invaded  Noi-mandy,  and  besieged  Verneuil. 
But  the  scene  began  to  change,  on  the  part  of  his 
unnatural  ally. 

Richard's  unexpected,  arrival  in  England  had 
entirely  destroyed  the  treacherous  schemes  of  the 


TREACHERY  AND  CRUELTY  OF  JOHN.   233 

faithless  John.  That  wicked  prince  saw  now  no 
means  of  security,  except  by  taking  some  decisive 
step,  which  would  demonstrate  that  he  had  cast  off 
King  Philip's  favour,  and  thrown  himself  entirely 
upon  his  brother's  clemency.  The  action  by  which 
he  proposed  to  make  these  intentions  manifest,  was 
atrociously  characteristic.  He  invited  to  the  castle 
of  Evreux,  in  which  Philip  had  invested  him,  those 
Norman  chiefs  and  officers  most  favourable  to  the 
schemes  of  the  French  king,  and  who  had  doubtless 
communicated  with  John  himself,  on  the  plans  of 
plundering  Richard,  which  he  had  nourished  before 
his  brother's  return.  Having  welcomed  these  men 
hospitably,  and  feasted  them  royally,  he  surprised, 
seized  upon,  and  murdered  his  guests,  when  unsus- 
picious of  danger,  and  incapable  of  resistance.  He 
cut  off  their  heads  to  the  number  of  three  hundred, 
and  arranged  them  upon  pikes  around  the  castle,  in 
the  fashion  of  a  bloody  garland. 

By  this  faithless  and  cruel  action,  John  meant  to 
break  all  terms  with  Philip,  his  late  abettor  in  his 
rebellion  against  his  brother  ;  but  that  king  avenged 
this  double  treachery  as  the  action  deserved.  He 
made  a  hasty  march  to  Evreux,  surprised  John's 
English  garrison,  and  put  them  to  the  sword,  laying 
in  ashes  the  town  itself,  as  the  scene  of  such 
treachery.  Richard  advanced  in  turn,  and  obtained 
some  advantages,  in  which  he  took  the  whole 
chancery  of  the  French  king.  But  Richard  was  too 
much  weakened  by  the  rebellion  of  his  vassals,  and 
the  impoverishment  of  his  realm,  to  follow  the  war 
so  promptly  as  his  nature  would  have  dictated. 
Truces,  therefore,  followed  each  other,  which  were 
as  rapidly  broken  as  they  were  formed,  until  at 
length  both  princes  were  brought,  by  the  legate  of 
20* 


234  DEATH    OF    RICHARD. 

the  Pope,  to  entertain  thoughts  of  a  soHd  and  lasting 
peace. 

But,  ere  it  was  yet  concluded,  a  paltry  a.  d. 
enterprise  cost  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  that  ^^^' 
life  which  he  had  risked  in  so  many  affairs  of  so 
much  greater  consequence.  One  of  his  vassals  had 
found  a  treasure  concealed  in  the  earth  upon  his 
fief.  Richard  demanded  possession  of  it,  such 
discoveries  being  considered  a  part  of  the  superior's 
interest  in  the  benefice.  It  was  refused,  and  the 
king  flew  to  besiege  the  vassal's  castle,  an  incon- 
siderable place.  He  soon  reduced  it  to  extremity , 
but  an  archer  took  aim  from  the  walls  with  a  cross- 
bow, and  the  bolt  mortally  wounded  Cceur  de  Lion 
The  castle  was  surrendered  ere  the  king  had  died 
of  his  wound.  Richard  commanded  the  unlucky 
marksman  to  be  brought  before  him,  and  demanded, 
why  he  had  sought  his  life  so  earnestly  ?  "  You 
slew,"  replied  the  archer,  whose  name  was  Bertram 
de  Gurdun,  "  my  father,  and  my  brother,  and  you 
were  seeking  my  own  life  ;  had  I  not  reason  to 
prevent  you,  if  I  could,  by  taking  yours  ] " 

The  dying  king  acknowledged  that  he  had  reason 
for  his  conduct,  and,  forgiving  his  offence  against 
his  person,  generously  commanded  him  to  be  dis- 
missed unharmed.  But  Richard  was  dying  while 
he  gave  the  command,  and  the  injunctions  of  dying 
sovereigns  are  not  always  respected.  The  captain 
of  a  band  of  Richard's  mercenaries  put  De  Gurdun 
to  death,  by  flaying  him  alive,  as  the  most  cruel 
mode  of  revenging  their  monarch's  death  which  the 
ingenuity  of  these  rude  soldiers  could  devise. 

Coeur  de  Lion  was  succeeded  in  his  throne  by 
the  tyrant  John.  There  are  not  many  portraits  in 
history  which  display  fewer    redeeming  qualities. 


Philip's  designs    upon  England.       235 

He  was  a  bad  father,  a  bad  brother,  a  bad  monarch, 
and  a  bad  man  ;  yet  he  was  preferred  to  the  succes- 
sion, notwithstanding  the  existence  of  Arthur  Duke 
of  Bretagne,  who  was  son  to  the  deceased  Geoffrey, 
the  immediate  younger  brother  of  Richard,  and  the 
senior  to  John.  Arthur's  claim  of  inheriting  a  suc- 
cession which  came  by  his  father's  elder  brother, 
would  be  now  perfectly  understood  as  preferable  to 
that  of  his  uncle  ;  but,  in  the  days  of  King  John, 
the  right  of  a  brother  was  often  preferred  to  that  of 
a  nephew,  the  son  of  an  elder  brother,  from  some 
idea  then  entertained,  that  in  the  former  case,  the 
brother  was  one  step  nearer  in  blood  to  the  deceased 
person.  But,  notwithstanding  John's  becoming 
King  of  England,  and  Duke  of  Normandy,  great 
discontent  prevailed  in  his  French  dominions,  as  in 
Anjou,  Maine,  and  other  provinces,  where  the  nobles 
and  knights  would  have  greatly  preferred  the  sway 
of  the  young  Prince  Arthur,  to  that  of  his  uncle. 

Philip  King  of  France,  whose  career  of  ambition 
had  been  checked  by  the  return,  and  formidable  oppo- 
sition, of  Richard  Cceur  de  Lion,  foresaw  that  the 
moment  was  arrived  when  he  might  safely,  and  with 
the  consent  of  the  vassals  themselves,  resume  his 
labours  to  reunite,  under  the  immediate  sovereignty 
of  the  crown  of  France,  the  great  fiefs  of  Normandy 
granted  to  Rollo,  and  the  other  provinces  of  which 
the  late  Henry  II.  of  England  had,  by  his  marriage 
with  Eleanor,  the  repudiated  wife  of  Philip  le  Jeune, 
and  other  transactions,  obtained  possession. 

The  character  and  conduct  of  John  was  so  unpo- 
pular, that  there  was  httle  doubt  that  the  barons  and 
vassals  of  the  English  provinces  lying  in  France, 
who  might  have  thought  it  disgraceful  to  desert  the 
standard  of  Richard,  especially  during  his  imprison- 


236  Philip's  aversion  to  his  second  wife. 

raent,  would  now  eagerly  transfer  their  allegiance  to 
their  lord  paramount,  Philip,  in  preference  to  the 
voluptuous  tyrant  who  succeeded  Coeur  de  Lion  on 
the  throne  of  England.  But  although  this  was  a 
crisis  so  favourable  and  so  important  for  extending 
the  authority  of  France,  Philip  was,  by  some  domes- 
tic embarrassments,  prevented  for  a  time  from 
reaping  the  harvest  which  had  ripened  before  him. 
The  circumstances  illustrate  the  manners  of  the  age, 
and  are  worthy  of  your  attention. 

Philip,  like  many  other  men,  otherwise  of  high 
qualities,  was  greatly  attached  to  women,  and  some- 
times sacrificed  his  policy  to  his  pleasures.  He 
lost  his  first  wife  in  childbed,  of  twins,  and  as  we  have 
already  hinted,  took  for  his  second  wife,  the  Prin- 
cess Ingerberge  of  Denmark,  with  the  purpose  of 
obtaining,  as  part  of  her  fortune,  the  cession  of  the 
pretensions  of  the  descendants  of  Canute  to  the 
throne  of  England,  which  might  give  him  a  pretence 
to  disturb  the  heirs  of  William  the  Conqueror,  now 
in  possession  of  that  kingdom.  His  marriage  took 
place  ;  but,  disappointed  at  not  succeeding  in  this 
intended  purpose,  or  displeased  with  his  new  bride's 
person,  and  determined  to  annul  the  man-iage,  Philip 
sent  the  Danish  princess  to  a  convent  before  she 
had  resided  two  days  in  his  palace. 

The  king's  aversion  to  the  unfortunate  Inger- 
berge was  so  great,  that  the  simplicity  of  the  times 
supposed  that  a  sense  of  dislike  so  sudden  and 
strong,  could  only  arise  from  the  effect  of  magic, — as 
if  any  magic  could  operate  more  powerfully  than  the 
caprices  of  a  self-willed  despot.  With  the  same 
unjust  fickleness,  Philip  employed  some  of  the  more 
subservient  prelates  about  his  court,  to  discover  cause 
for  a  divorce  which  was  easily  found  in  the  usual 


INTERDICT    BY    THE    POPE.  237 

pretext  of  too  close  alliance  in  blood  between  the 
wedded  parties.  A  pedigree  was  drawn  up  to 
favour  the  plea,  in  consequence  of  which,  a  com- 
plaisant council  of  French  bishops  passed  a  sentence 
of  divorce  between  Philip  and  Ingerberge,  within 
three  years  after  their  separation. 

The  king  then  proceeded  to  marry  Agnes 
de  Merania,  daughter  to  the  Duke  of  Dalma-  i[^\ 
tia.  The  King  of  Denmark  remonstrated  at 
Rome,  where  his  complaints  found  favourable  hear- 
ing, against  the  injury  and  insult  offered  to  his  un- 
offending daughter.  The  legate  of  the  Pope,  having 
taken  cognisance  of  this  important  case,  declared 
formally  that  the  marriage  with  Ingerberge  remained 
binding,  and  admonished  the  king  to  put  away  her 
rival,  Agnes,  as  one  with  whom  he  could  have  no 
legal  tie.  As  Philip  remained  obstinate  and  impe- 
nitent, the  Pope  proceeded  to  lay  his  kingdom  under 
an  interdict,  which,  while  it  lasted,  prohibited  the 
performance  of  divine  service  of  every  kind,  the 
administration  of  the  sacraments,  the  reading  the 
services  for  the  dead;  or  for  marriage  or  baptism, 
occasioning  thereby  an  inexpressible  confusion  in 
the  country  where  these  divine  rites  were  suspend- 
ed, and  all  civil  affairs,  of  course,  interrupted. 

Philip,  enraged  at  the  perseverance  of  the  Pope, 
revenged  himself  on  the  clergy.  He  seized  on 
their  temporal  effects,  imprisoned  the  canons  of  the 
cathedrals,  and  raised  heavy  taxes  on  all  classes, 
by  which  he  maintained  such  large  bodies  of  merce- 
nary soldiers,  as  made  resistance  impossible  on  the 
part  of  his  vassals.  At  length,  finding  it  difficult  to 
remain  in  this  state  of  violence,  Philip  made  a  com- 
promise with  the  Pope,  agreeing  that  he  would  be- 
come amenable  to  the  obedience  of  the  church, 


238  INTERDICT    WITHDRAWN. '- 

providing  his  holiness  would  condescend  once  more 
to  examine  the  question  of  the  divorce  and  marriage. 
A  council  was  accordingly  held  at  Soissons,  for  the 
re-examination  of  an  affair  that  was  extremely  sim- 
ple. Fifteen  days  were  spent  by  churchmen  and 
canonists  in  these  subtle  questions,  which  rather 
perplex  than  enlighten  justice,  when,  suddenly,  a 
young  and  unknown  speaker  took  the  side  of  the 
divorced  queen,  with  such  persuasive  force  of  truth, 
that  the  churchmen  conceived  they  heard  themselves 
addressed  by  the  voice  of  an  angel. 

The  king  himself  perceived  his  cause  was  inde- 
fensible, and  resolved  to  take  back  the  Danish 
princess,  as  if  of  his  own  accord,  ere  yet  he  should 
be  compelled  to  do  so  by  the  order  of  the  council. 
He  therefore  told  the  legate  abruptly  that  he  would 
settle  the  affair  with  his  wives  in  his  own  way.  He 
did  so  accordingly,  with  very  little  ceremony, 
instantly  riding  to  the  convent  where  the  discarded 
Ingerberge  resided,  taking  her  up  behind  him  on  the 
same  steed,  and  proceeding  with  her  in  that  manner 
to  Paris,  where  he  publicly  acknowledged  her  for 
his  lawful  wife.  Ingerberge,  with  the  same  patient 
obedience  which  distinguished  her  while  in  the 
cloister,  returned  to  the  world,  and  lived  and  died 
blameless,  if  not  beloved.  The  fate  of  Agnes  de 
Merania  was  more  melancholy ;  she  died  of  a 
broken  heart  at  feeling  herself  reduced  from  the 
rank  of  a  royal  matron  to  that  of  a  concubine. 

By  an  arrangement  so  simply  produced,  Philip 
gained  the  advantage  of  being  restored  from  the 
condition  of  an  interdicted  and  excommunicated 
prince,  to  that  of  a  true  and  lawful  sovereign,  who 
might  justly  receive  the  complaints  of  the  church, 
as  well  as  of  inferior  persons,  against  his  vassal 


INSURRECTION    IN    GUIENNE.  239 

John,  for  certain  enormities  which  were  not  very- 
distant  in  character  from  those  for  which  Philip 
himself  had  been  so  lately  laid  under  an  interdict. 

John,  whose  only  use  of  power  was  to  forward 
his  own  pleasures,  had,  during  a  progress  in  Guienne 
become  captivated  with  the  charms  of  Isabel,  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Angouleme.  This 
young  beauty  was  betrothed  to  Hugh  le  Brun,  Earl 
de  la  Marche,  and  had  been  delivered  up  to  her  be- 
trothed husband.  But  John,  who  was  totally  unac- 
customed to  bridle  his  passions,  was  induced  to  banish 
a  wife  with  whom  he  had  eujoyed  ten  years  of  undis- 
turbed union,  and,  by  tempting  tne  ambition  of  Aymar, 
Count  of  Angouleme,  easily  bribed  him  to  accept  a 
king  for  a  son-in-law,  instead  of  a  simple  count. 

This  rash  and  hasty  action  incurred  much 
censure.  The  Earl  de  la  Marche,  thus  de-  i2W)[ 
prived  of  his  intended  and  betrothed  bride, 
-and  bent  on  revenge  for  so  gross  an  injury,  broke 
out,  with  his  brother  the  Earl  of  Eu,  and  other  con- 
federates in  Guienne,  into  open  rebellion.  John, 
alarmed  for  the  consequences — for  he  was  well 
aware  of  his  own  unpopularity — summoned  together 
his  English  vassals,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  the 
insurrection  ere  it  spread  wider.  But  although  the 
English  barons  had  seldom  hesitated  to  follow  their 
kings  td  France,  as  a  country  where  they  were 
wont  to  acquire  wealth  and  warlike  fame,  it  was  no 
part  of  their  feudal  obligation  to  serve  the  king  be- 
yond the  limits  of  Britain,  unless  with  their  own 
free  consent.  On  this  occasion,  disliking  the  cause 
or  the  prince,  the  great  English  barons  obeyed 
John's  summons  but  slowly.  John  was  attended, 
therefore,  by  too  small  an  army  to  secure  the  impli- 
cit submission  of  his  refractory  nobles  ;  and  while  he 


240  INSURRECTION    IN    GUIENNE, 

carried  on  a  languid  war  against  the  disaffected,  the 
insurrection  gained  new  and  formidable  supporters. 

Arthur,  son  of  Geoffrey,  and  nephew  of  John, 
began  now  to  complain,  that  out  of  his  uncle 
Richard's  succession  he  had  been  only  suffered  to 
retain  the  dukedom  of  Bretagne ;  which  was  the 
more  unjust,  as  Richard,  Vvhen  he  v.  ent  to  the  Holy 
Land,  had  designed  Geoffrey  his  father,  in  whose 
right  Arthur  stood,  as  heir  of  all  his  French  domi- 
nions. Incensed  at  this  grievance,  the  young  duke, 
who  was  scarcely  sixteen  years  of  age,  entertained 
a  secret  correspondence  with  the  discontented  lords 
of  Guienne  ;  and  the  whole  conspiracy  became  ma- 
nifest, when  Philip,  claiming,  as  liege  lord,  the  right 
of  deciding  between  John  and  his  dissatisfied  vas- 
sals, declared  himself  the  protector  of  the  insur- 
gents of  Guienne,  and  the  assertor  of  the  claims  of 
Arthur.  Both  nations  took  arms,  and  on  each  side 
an  ambitious  and  violent  tempered  woman  urged 
the  quarrel  to  extremity. 

Constance,  the  mother  of  Arthur,  and  widow  of 
his  deceased  father  Geoffrey,  incited  her  son  to  war 
against  his  uncle  John  by  every  argument  in  her 
power;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  dowager  Queen 
Eleanor,  that  celebrated  heiress,  who  transferred 
Aquitaine  from  Philip  le  Jeune  to  Henry  II.,  was 
still  alive,  and  violent  in  behalf  of  King  John,  whom 
she  loved  better  than  her  other  sons,  because  he 
resembled  her  more  in  disposition  than  any  of  his 
brothers.  These  two  haughty  and  high-tempered 
ladies  had  personal  animosities  against  each  other, 
and  inflamed  the  war  by  female  taunts  and  female 
resentments.  Our  great  dramatic  poet  Shakspeare 
has  made  their  wrangling  immortal,  by  intermixing 
it  with  the  plot  of  his  celebrated  play  of  King  John. 


CRUELTY    OF    JOHN.  241 

In  the  year  1202  hostilities  commenced. 
iio^  Young  Arthur  took  the  field  in  the  west  of 
France  with  two  hundred  knights,  and  gained 
some  successes,  but  experienced  on  the  following 
occasion,  so  far  as  the  young  prince  was  concerned, 
a  woful  and  irrecoverable  reverse.  Having,  on  his 
march  through  Poitou,  received  information  that  the 
dowager  Queen  Eleanor,  his  own  and  his  mother's 
personal  enemy,  was  residing  in  the  adjacent  castle 
of  Mirabel,  Arthur  flew  to  invest  it,  and  make  sure 
of  her  as  a  prisoner.  The  defence  was  vigorous, 
but  at  length  the  besiegers  possessed  themselves  of 
the  base  court,  and  were  well  nigh  carrying  the  great 
tower,  or  keep,  of  the  castle.  The  arrival  of  King- 
John  changed  the  scene  ;  he  was  at  no  great  dis- 
tance with  an  army  more  numerous  than  that  of  his 
nephew,  consisting  chiefly  of  mercenaries. 

Arthur  with  his  little  band,  marched  to  meet  their 
unexpected  foe,  but  was  completely  routed,  and  dri- 
ven back  to  the  castle  of  Mirabel,  where  they  were 
all  either  slain  or  made  prisoners.  Arthur  himself, 
the  Comte  de  la  Marche,  and  two  hundred  knights, 
were  among  the  latter  ;  and  if  John  could  have  used 
a  decisive  victory  with  humanity  and  moderation,  he 
might  have  preserved  his  French  dominions,  and 
averted  a  long  and  almost  uninterrupted  chain  of 
well-deserved  misfortunes.  But  neither  humanity 
nor  moderation  were  a  part  of  his  character  ;  and  it 
may  be  remarked,  that  there  is  no  surer  road  to  ad- 
versity than  misused  prosperity. 

The  fate  of  the  prisoners  taken  in  this  skirmish  of 
Mirabel,  was  atrociously  cruel.  That  of  Arthur  was 
never  exactly  known  ;  but  all  authors  agree  that  he 
was  murdered  at  Rouen  by  his  jealous  uncle  John — 
some  allege,  in  his  presence,  and    others    affirm, 

VOL.    I.  21 


242  FORFEITURE    OF    NORMANDY. 

with  his  own  hand.  Of  the  young  prince's  allies 
and  friends,  twenty-five  of  the  noblest  and  bravest 
were  starved  to  death  in  Corfe  Castle. 

The  minds  of  all  men  revolted  a.gainst  the  author 
of  this  disgraceful  abuse  of  victory.  The  barons  of 
Bretagne  accused  John  at  the  footstool  of  Philip, 
their  leige  lord,  of  the  crime  of  murdering  their 
duke,  and  his  own  nephev/,  in  the  person  of  the  un- 
happy Arthur.  As  the  king  of  England  did  not 
appear  to  answer  to  their  charge,  he  vras  pronounced 
guilty  of  felony  and  treason,  and  ail  his  dominions 
in  Normandy  were  declared  forfeited  to  his  liege 
lord  the  King  of  France.  Thus  v;as  the  crisis  ar- 
rived which  Philip  had  long  waited  for.  Over  the 
extensive  territories  held  for  so  fnany  years  by  wise, 
warlike,  and  powerful  princes,  there  was  now  placed 
a  person,  who,  by  tyranny  and  inhumanity,  was  sure 
to  incur  a  just  doom  of  forfeiture,  and,  by  cowardice 
and  indolence,  was  incapable  of  saving  himself  from 
the  consequences,  by  a  resolute  defence. 

Accordingly,  when  Philip,  at  the  head  of  his  army, 
began  to  enforce  the  doom  of  forfeiture,  or,  in  plain 
language,  to  conquer  Normandy  for  his  own,  it  was 
astonishing  how  rapidly  the  structure  of  feudal 
power,  which  had  been  raised  by  the  sagacity  of 
William  the  Conqueror,  and  his  son  and  great- 
grandson,  the  first  and  second  Henrys,  and  latterly 
defended  by  the  iron  arm  of  R,ichard  Cceur  de  Lion, 
dissolved,  when  under  the  sway  of  the  selfish,  indo- 
lent, and  irresolute  John.  Joined  by  the  numerous 
barons  who  were  disaffected  to  King  John,  Philip 
marched  through  Normandy,  reducing  the  strong- 
holds at  pleasure,  and  subjecting  the  country  to  his 
allegiance.  ■  • 

John  never  even  attempted  to  meet  his  enemiea 


JOHiN's    FRENCH    POSSESSIONS.  243 

in  the  field,  but  remained  in  daily  riot  and  revelry  at 
Rouen,  struck,  as  it  were,  with  a  judicial  infatuation, 
which  so  much  affected  his  courage  and  activity,  that 
about  the  end  of  the  year,  finding  the  storm  of  war 
approach  so  near  as  to  disturb  his  slumbers,  he  fairly 
fled  to  England,  and  left  the  dukedom  of  Normandy 
to  its  fate.  This  was  not  long  protracted  ;  for,  with- 
out much  exertion,  and  with  the  good  will  of  the 
countries,  whose  inhabitants  had  not  forgotten  they 
were  by  nature  part  of  the  kingdom  of  France, 
Normandy,  with  Anjou,  Poitou,  and  Maine,  except- 
ing a  few  places  which  remained  faithful  to  the 
English  king,  became  again  annexed  to  the  crown 
of  France.  Rouen  itself,  the  capital  of  Normandy, 
being  abandoned  to  its  own  resources,  was  forced  to 
surrender,  and  once  more  became  the  property  of 
the  French  kings,  three  hundred  years  after  it  had 
been  conquered  by  Rollo,  the  Norman. 

The  infatuated  John  threw  the  blame  of  losing 
so  many  fair  possessions  upon  the  desertion  of  the 
English  barons,  who  would  not  follow  him  to  France 
for  the  purpose  of  defending  his  Norman  dominions. 
He  more  than  once  summoned  his  vassals,  as  if  with 
the  fixed  purpose  of  invading  the  territories  he  had 
lost ;  but  the  expedition  vras  ahvays  deferred,  under 
pretence  that  the  musters  v/ere  not  complete,  until 
it  became  the  conviction  of  every  one,  that  the  ar- 
maments were  only  intended  to  afford  a  pretext  for 
levying  fines  on  the  vassals  who  neglected  the  royal 
summons. 

A  single  feeble  attempt  to  cross  the  seas  with  an 
army,  only  served  to  show  the  imbecility  of  the 
English  leader ;  and  retiring  before  Philip,  and 
avoiding  the  combat  which  he  offered,  the  degene- 
rate John  did  but  prove  his  personal  co'.vardice,  and 


244        Philip's  designs  upon  England. 

ignorance  as  a  commander.  Thus,  almost  without 
opposition,  did  Phihp  unite,  under  the  French  em- 
pire, those  provinces  so  long  separated  from  the 
kingdom  to  which  they  belonged  as  a  natural  part. 
The  event  was  the  most  useful,  as  well  as  most  bril- 
liant, of  his  reign,  and  must  be  reckoned  the  princi- 
pal cause  for  bestowing  upon  Philip  the  flattering 
name  of  Augustus. 

The  extreme  indolence  and  imbecility  of  John 
encouraged  the  King  of  France,  who,  through  all 
his  reign,  evinced  a  high  cast  of  ambition  and  po- 
licy, to  extend  his  views  even  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  French  dominions  of  the  English  prince ;  and 
pushing  his  opportunity  against  one  so  inactive  and 
impolitic,  he  resolved  to  attempt  achieving  a  second 
conquest  of  England,  while  its  crown  was  placed  on 
so  unworthy  a  head.  The  success  of  William  the 
Conqueror,  under  circumstances  much  less  favour- 
able, was  doubtless  called  to  mind,  as  an  encoura- 
ging example.  Some  apology,  or  show  of  justice, 
was  indeed  wanting  for  such  an  invasion  ;  for  Eng- 
land was  no  dependency  of  France,  like  Normandy 
or  Anjou,  nor  had  King  Philip  a  right  to  declare  that 
realm  forfeited  as  a  fief  of  his  crown,  whatever  may 
have  been  the  delinquencies  of  its  tyrannical  sove- 
reign. 

But  it  was  John's  ill  luck,  or  misconduct,  so  to 
manage  his  affairs,  as  to  afford,  not  Philip  alone, 
but  any  Christian  prince  in  Europe,  as  full  right  to 
make  war  upon  and  dispossess  him  of  his  English 
dominions,  as  the  church  of  Rome,  which  then  claim- 
ed the  right  of  placing  and  dethroning  monarchs, 
was  competent  to  confer.  The  rash  monarch  of 
England  laid  himself  open  to  this,  by  a  dispute  with 
the  Pope,  at  any  time  a  formidable  opponent,  but  an 


DISPUTE    BETWEEN    JOHN    AND    THE    POPE.    245 

irresistible  one  to  a  sovereign  so  universally  detest- 
ed as  John. 

This  dispute,  so  remarkable  in  its  consequences, 
arose  thus  : 

In  1205,  the  right  of  electing  an  Archbishop 
^205.'  ^^  Canterbury  was  disputed  between  the 
monks  of  the  cathedral,  who  made  choice  of 
their  own  sub-prior,  Reginald,  and  the  King  of  Eng- 
land, with  the  prelates  of  the  province,  who  made 
choice  of  the  Bishop  of  Norwich.  Both  sides  ap- 
pealed to  the  Pope,  who  immediately  began  to  take 
the  dispute  under  his  own  management,  with  the 
purpose  of  so  conducting  the  contest,  as  to  augment 
the  unhmited  power  which  he  claimed  to  exercise 
over  Christendom. 

The  Pontiff  decided,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
right  of  electing  the  archbishop  lay  exclusively  in 
the  monks.  He  next  declared  both  elections  to  be 
vacant,  and  proceeding  to  fill  the  important  situation 
with  a  creature  of  his  own,  commanded  the  monks 
of  Canterbury,  who  had  come  to  Rome  to  solicit  the 
disputed  election,  to  make  a  new  choice  for  the 
office,  indicating  Stephen  Langdon  as  the  candidate 
whom  they  were  to  prefer.  The  monks  pleaded  the 
irregularity  of  such  an  election,  and  alleged  vows 
which  rendered  it  unlawful  for  them  to  hold  such  a 
course.  The  Pope  answered  their  objections  by 
his  plenary  power.  He  dispensed  with  the  irregu- 
larity by  his  papal  authority,  annulled  the  obligations 
of  the  oaths  of  the  monks,  and  compelled  them, 
under  penalty  of  the  highest  censure  of  the  church, 
to  proceed  as  he  enjoined  them.  John  with  a  spirit 
which  he  only  showed  when  resistance  was  remote, 
remonstrated  with  Pope  Innocent  on  such  an  irre- 
gular attempt  to  fix  a  primate  on  England. 
21* 


246  EXCOMMUNICATION    OF    JOHN. 

The  Pope  replied  with  equal  warmth,  calling  on 
the  king  to  submit  to  his  authority,  before  whom  every 
knee  must  bow.  Finally,  as  King  John  continued 
refractory,  the  Pontiff  proceeded  to  lay  all  his  domi- 
nions under  an  interdict,  of  which  the  nature  has 
been  already  explained  to  you.  John  endeavoured 
to  avenge  himself  upon  such  of  the  clergy  as  were 
within  his  reach  ;  but  although  imprisoned,  fined, 
and  even  personally  punished,  the  zeal  of  the  church- 
men for  the  cause  of  the  Pope,  made  them  dare  the 
fate  of  martyrs  or  of  confessors. 

In  1209,  when  the  interdict  had  continued 
1209  ^^^^  years,  the  Pope  proceeded  to  pronounce 
sentence  of  excommunication  against  John 
personally,  by  which  he  was,  so  far  as  the  curses  of 
Rome  could  have  effect,  thrown  out  of  the  pale  of 
the  Christian  church,  his  subjects  released  from  their 
allegiance  to  him,  and  his  kingdom  delivered  up  to 
any  one  who  should  carry  the  doom  of  the  Pontiff 
into  execution.  More  especially,  King  Philip  of 
France  had  the  express  charge  of  executing  the 
sentence  of  deposition  against  his  neighbour  of  Eng- 
land, and  in  reward  of  his  expected  exertions,  was 
declared  king  of  that  country  in  his  stead. 

Thus  placed  in  the  very  position  which  he  so 
earnestly  desired  to  assume,  by  taking  on  himself  the 
office  of  the  Pope's  champion,  the  politic  Philip  sac- 
rificed to  his  ambitious  views  upon  England  the 
common  interest  of  princes,  and  assented  to  the 
dangerous  doctrine,  that  the  crowns  of  reigning  sov- 
ereigns were  held  at  the  pleasure  of  the  Roman  pon- 
tiff. He  assembled  a  large  army  near  Boulogne, 
where  he  had  provided  no  less  than  seventeen  hun- 
dred vessels  to  transport  them  to  England.  But 
although  dislike  to  the  tyranny  of  John  rendered  maay 


John's  submission  .to  the  pope.        247 

of  his  barons  indiffereni  to  his  fate,  and  although  the 
minds  of  others  were  affected  with  superstitious 
dread  of  the  Pope's  anathema,  there  were  yet  many 
EngHshmen  resolved  to  withstand  the  French  inva- 
sion. The  alarm  that  the  kingdom  was  in  danger 
from  foreigners,  drew  together  an  immense  array, 
from  which  it  was  easy  for  King  John  to  select  sixty 
thousand  well  armed  and  well  appointed  troops,  to 
oppose  the  French  king. 

Such  were  the  preparations  made  to  defend  Eng- 
land from  invasion,  when  John,  by  a  secret  treaty 
with  Pandulph,  the  legate  of  the  Pope,  endeavoured 
to  avert  the  danger  of  the  struggle.  In  this  he  suc- 
ceeded— but  it  was  only  by  an  act  of  submission, 
the  most  ignominious  of  which  the  world  had  yet 
seen  an  example.  By  this  agreement,  the  King  of 
England  made  the  most  unreserved  submission  to 
the  Pope  concerning  Stephen  Langton's  reception 
as  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  which  was  the  original 
dispute,  professed  penitence  for  his  former  refractory 
conduct,  and,  in  evidence  of  his  sincerity,  resigned 
into  the  hands  of  the  legate,  as  representing  his  holi- 
ness, his  kingdoms  of  England  and  Ireland,  enga- 
ging to  hold  them  thereafter,  in  name  of  vassal  to 
the  Pope,  for  the  tribute  of  one  thousand  merks 
yearly. 

The  Pope  was  highly  gratified  with  an  accommo- 
dation which  had  taken  a  turn  so  favourable  to  the 
extension  of  the  influence,  as  well  as  the  wealth,  of 
the  church,  and  he  issued  his  mandates  in  a  tone  of 
uncommon  arrogance,  commanding  Philip  to  forbear 
any  enterprise  against  John  of  England,  who  now 
had,  though  formerly  a  refractory  son  of  the  church, 
reconciled  himself  with  the  Pope,  was  become  the 
vassal  of  the  Holy  See,  a  submissive,  amiable,  and 


248       Philip's  invasion  of  flanders. 

benign  prince,  peculiarly  entitled  to  the  Pontiff's  pro- 
tection against  all  injuries.  Philip  remonstrated  at  the 
attempt  to  render  him  thus  the  passive  tool  of  Rome, 
obliged  as  such  to  assume  and  lay  aside  his  arms  at 
her  bidding.  He  thought  it  best,  however,  to  com- 
ply, as  he  learned  that  his  increasing  power,  aug- 
mented as  it  was  with  the  spoils  of  John's  French 
territories,  was  on  the  eve  of  exciting  a  confederacy 
against  him  among  the  crown  vassals  of  France. 
For  this  reason,  he  turned  the  army  designed  for  the 
invasion  of  England  against  Ferrand,  Earl  of  Flan- 
ders, whose  accession  to  such  a  league  he  had  rea- 
son to  apprehend. 

The  great  army  of  France,  -with  the  king  at  its 
head,  advanced  into  Flanders  accordingly,  taking 
some  of  the  earl's  towns,  and  menacing  the  subju- 
gation of  his  earldom.  King  John,  on  the  entreaty 
of  Earl  Ferrand,  sent  to  his  assistance  a  great  fleet, 
which  he  had  got  in  readiness  while  the  alarm  of  the 
French  invasion  of  England  impended,  under  the 
command  of  a  natural  son  of  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion, 
called  Longsword,  Earl  of  Salisbury.  The  Eng- 
lish had  already  acquired  that  superiority  at  sea, 
which  has  been  long  one  of  their  marked  national 
characteristics.  They  defeated  the  French  navy, 
though  more  numerous  than  their  own,  destroying 
one  hundred  vessels,  taking  one  hundred  more,  and 
dispersing  the  rest  of  the  fleet.  Philip,  who  with 
his  nobles  had  lost  much  valuable  property  on  this 
occasion,  was  so  much  discouraged  by  an  unexpect- 
ed blow  fiom  a  quarter  which  he  had  been  little 
accustomed  to  fear,  that  he  desisted  from  his  at- 
tempts against  Ferrand,  and  retired  into  his  own 
dominions. 

The  alarm  which  was  excited  by  King  Philip's 


CONFEDERACY    AGAINST    PHILIP.  249 

increasing  power  and  extensive  ambition,  was  far 
from  subsiding  on  his  retreat.  On  the  contrary,  the 
vassals  of  the  crown  of  France,  who  had  been  en- 
gaged with  other  c  ntinental  princes  in  a  confederacy 
against  the  crown,  were  bent  on  taking  advantage 
of  the  gleam  of  success  occasioned  by  the  discom- 
fiture, and  to  establish,  in  the  moment  of  victory, 
some  counterbalance  against  the  predominant  author- 
ity of  Philip. 

The  confederacy  assumed  a  consistent  and  alarm- 
ing appearance,  and  well  deserved  the  king  of 
France's  peculiar  attention,  as  it  was  like  to  require 
the  whole  strength  of  his  kingdom  to  resist  the  com- 
bined assault  of  so  many  enemies.  The  Emperor 
Otho  lent  his  active  co-operation  to  the  confederates 
the  more  readily,  as  being  the  nephew,  by  the  mo- 
ther's side,  of  King  John,  whose  French  dominions 
Philip  had  confiscated  with  so  little  ceremony  or 
scruple.  The  Earls  of  Flanders,  Boulogne,  Tou- 
louse, and  Auvergne,  also  joined  the  enemies  of 
Philip,  and  visited  England  in  1214,  to  arrange  the 
plan  of  the  ensuing  campaign. 

It  was  agreed  on  this  occasion,  that  France  should 
be  invaded  on  two  sides,  so  as  to  find  full  employ- 
ment for  the  forces  and  skill  of  her  monarch.  It  was 
farther  determined,  that  the  main  attempt  should  be 
made  by  the  Emperor  Otho  and  the  warlike  Earls 
of  Boulogne  and  Flanders,  aided  by  an  auxiliary 
body  of  English  troops,  under  command  of  the  cele- 
brated Longsword,  Earl  of  Salisbury.  They  were 
destined  to  attack  the  eastern  frontiers  of  France, 
with  a  powerful  army.  John  himself,  according  to 
the  same  plan,  was  to  cross  the  sea  to  Rochelle, 
where  he  was  sure  to  be  joined  by  several  friends  of 
the  English  interest,  as  well  as  by  the  Earls  of  Au- 


250  ARMY    OF    PHILIP. 


vergne  and  Toulouse.  Such  were  the  preparations  ; 
the  object  proposed  v/as  the  dismemberment  of  the 
French  territories,  which  were  to  be  divided  among 
the  princes  of  this  confederacy. 

The  alUes,  in  accordance  with  the  superstition  of 
the  times,  consulted  soothsayers  on  the  issue  of  the 
war,  and  received  for  answer,  "  that  the  King  of 
France  should  be  overthrown,  and  trampled  on  by 
the  horses'  feet,  and  should  not  receive  funeral 
rites  ;  and  that  Count  Ferrand  pf  Flanders  should 
enter  Paris  in  great  pomp  after  the  engagement." 
The  allies  received  as  propitious  an  oracle,  which  af- 
terwards turned  out  to  be  of  a  different  and  ambiguous 
character;  they  accordingly  advanced  at  the  head  of  a 
numerous  army,  amounting,  it  is  said,  to  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  men.  They  assembled  at  PeroiMie, 
in  Flanders,  and  moved  south-westwards  into  France. 

The  army  of  Philip  was  not  nearly  so  numerous, 
but  was  composed  of  the  flower  of  the  French  chiv- 
alry, with  the  great  princes  of  the  blood  royal,  and 
such  of  the  vassals  of  the  crown  as  were  not  in  the 
confederacy.  The  monarch  also  enjoyed  the  advan- 
tage of  the  bravery  and  experience  of  a  valiant 
knight  hospitaller,  called  Guerin,  who  acted  as 
quarter-master  general.  Philip,  having  determined 
to  prevent  the  wasting  of  his  own  country  by  rava- 
ging that  of  the  enemy,  directed  his  course  towards 
Hainault  with  that  purpose.  But  in  the  course  of 
their  march,  the  French  discovered  the  numerous 
squadrons  of  the  Emperor,  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  Meuse,  near  Bouvines. 

The  river  was  crossed  by  a  wooden  bridge.    The 
French  noblesse  on  the  one  side,  and  the  German 
on  the  other,  rushed  emulously  to  seize  the  passage 
But  it  was  occupied  by  the  former  ;  and  the  French 


BATTLE    OF    BOUVINES.  251 

infantry,  principally  the  militia  of  the  towns,  passed 
over  under  the  Oriflamme,  or  banner  of  Saint  Den- 
nis, and  formed  on  the  western  side  of  the  river. 
The  king  had  stretched  himself  to  repose  under  an 
ash  tree,  when  he  was  roused  by^the  horsemen  who 
came  to  apprise  him  that  the  battle  had  commenced. 
Philip  arose  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  and,  step- 
ping into  a  church  which  was  near,  paid  the  brief 
devotions  of  a  soldier. 

He  then  advanced  to  the  front  of  his  troops,  and 
recollecting  that  there  were  many  vassals  in  his  own 
army  who  were  likely  to  be  secretly  affected  by  the 
reports  generally,  and  not  unjustly,  spread  abroad 
concerning  his  own  interested  and  ambitious  dispo- 
sition, he  caused  his  crown  to  be  placed  on  a  porta- 
ble altar,  arranged  in  front  of  his  line  of  battle. 
"  My  friends,"  he  said,  "  it  is  for  the  crown  of  France 
you  fight,  and  not  for  him  who  has  of  late  worn  it. 
If  you  can  rescue  it  from  these  men,  who  are  com- 
bined to  degrade  and  destroy  it,  the  soldier  who  shall 
bear  him  best  in  its  defence,  is,  for  my  part,  welcome 
to  wear  it  as  his  own." 

This  well  conceived  speech  was  answered  with 
shouts  of  "  Long  live  King  Philip  !  the  crown  can 
befit  no  brow  so  well  as  his  own."  The  French 
army  continued  to  defile  across  the  bridge  to  sup- 
port their  van,  which  had  already  passed  over.  The 
array  of  the  allies  continued  to  manoeuvre  and  extend 
their  wings,  for  the  purpose  of  surrounding  Philip's 
inferior  numbers.  But  by  this  manoeuvre  they  lost 
the  opportunity  of  charging  the  French  troops,  when 
only  a  part  of  their  army  had  passed  over,  and  in 
taking  up  their  new  ground,  they  exposed  their  faces 
to  the  sun, — a  great  disadvantage,  which  they  felt 
severely  during  the  whole  action. 


252  BATTLE    OF    BOUVINES. 

The  battle  began  with  incredible  fury,  and  proved 
one  of  the  most  obstinate,  as  it  was  certainly  one  of 
the  most  important,  actions  of  those  warUke  times. 

The  command  of  the  right  wing  of  the  allies  was 
entrusted  to  the  Earl  of  Flanders,  the  left  to  the 
Count  of  Boulogne,  the  Emperor  having  his  own 
place  in  the  centre,  under  a  banner  displayed  on  a 
species  of  carriage,  on  which  ensign  was  represent- 
ed the  imperial  eagle  holding  a  dragon  in  his  talons. 
On  the  side  of  France^the  king  himself,  surrounded 
by  the  princes  of  the  blood,  heading  the  bravest  of 
the  young  knights  and  nobles,  and  attended  by  the 
most  distinguished  of  the  prelates  and  clergy,  com- 
manded the  centre.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy  com- 
manded the  right  wing,  the  Comte  de  St.  Paul  the 
left,  and  Guerin,  the  experienced  knight  hospitaller, 
arrayed  the  army,  being,  although  a  bishop  elect,  the 
most  skilful  leader  in  the  field.  The  Comte  de  St. 
Paul,  who  had  been  unjustly  suspected  of  intercourse 
with  the  enemy,  said  to  Guerin,  when  the  battle 
commenced,  "  Now,  you  shall  see  what  manner  of 
traitor  I  am !" 

At  the  onset,  the  allies  had  some  advantage  ;  for 
a  body  of  French  light  horse,  which  commenced  the 
attack,  were  unable  to  withstand  the  weight  and 
strength  of  the  huge  men  and  horses  of  the  Flem- 
ish and  German  cavalry,  to  whom  they  were  oppo- 
sed. One  wing  of  the  French  army  was  disarranged 
in  consequence  of  this  check,  as  well  as  by  the  im- 
petuosity of  an  attack  commanded  by  Ferrand,  Earl 
of  Flanders,  who  was  one  of  the  best  warriors  on 
the  side  of  the  allies.  The  emperor  assailed  with 
incredible  fury  and  superior  forces,  the  centre,  in 
which  Philip  and  his  nobles  were  stationed.  Philip 
made  good  the  promise  which  he  had  given  to  his 


B4TTLE    OF    BOUVINES.  253 

soldiers,  and  fought  as  desperately  as  any  man  in 
the  field.  He  was  at  length  borne  out  of  his  saddle, 
and  wounded  in  the  throat.  Gulon  de  Montigni  in 
vain  waved  the  royal  banner,  to  intimate  the  disas- 
ter that  had  taken  place,  and  Phihp's  wars  would 
have  ended  on  the  spot,  but  for  the  devoted  loyalty 
of  some  knights,  who  threw  themselves  betwixt  him 
and  the  prevailing  Germans.  But,  almost  at  the 
same  moment,  the  Earl  of  Flanders,  who  had  been 
at  first  victorious,  was,  after  great  resistance,  made 
prisoner,  and  his  Flemish  forces  defeated,  giving  an 
opportunity  for  a  large  body  of  French  cavalry  to 
press  closely  to  the  centre,  where  their  assistance 
was  so  much  required. 

A  band  of  the  nobles  who  thus  came  to  Philip^ 
rescue,  determined  to  attack  the  person  of  the  Em- 
peror, disregarding  meaner  objects.  They  broke 
through  his  guard,  overturned  the  chariot  which  bore 
his  banner,  and  seized  it.  They  then  rushed  on 
Otho's  person.  Peter  de  Mauvoisin  seized  his  bri- 
dle, William  des  Barres  grasped  him  round  the  body, 
and  strove  to  pull  him  from  his  horse,  Gerard  de 
Trie  attempted  to  strike  him  through  with  his  sword, 
and  the  good  corslet  protecting  the  emperor  from 
the  blow,  the  Frenchman  again  struck  with  the  edge 
of  the  sword,  and  killed  Otho's  horse.  Yet  a  furious 
charge  of  some  German  men-at-arms  relieved  their 
emperor,  who  was  remounted  on  a  swift  horse,  and 
left  the  conflict  in  despair.  "  Let  him  go,"  said 
King  Philip,  who  witnessed  his  enemy's  flight, "  you 
will  see  no  more  of  him  to-day  than  his  back !" 

While  the  Earl  of  Flanders  and  the  emperor 
were  thus  defeated,  the  Comte  de  Boulogne  display- 
ed the  greatest  courage,  by  the  mode  in  which  he 
supported  his  division  of  the  allies.     He  had  esta- 

VOL.  r  22 


254  BATTLE    OF    BOUVINES. 

blished  a  strong  reserve  of  foot  in  a  triangular  form, 
behind  which,  as  covered  by  a  fortress,  he  drew  up 
his  men-at-arms,  and  whence  he  salHed  repeatedly 
with  inexpressible  fury.  At  length,  he  was  pursued 
into  his  retreat  by  the  French  men-at-arms,  who 
skirmished  with  him  for  some  time,  unable  to  beat 
down  or  despatch  him,  as  horse  and  man  were  cover- 
ed with  impenetrable  armour,  like  the  invulnerable 
champions  of  romance. 

At  last,  Pierre  des  Tourelles,  a  knight  who 
chanced  himself  to  be  dismounted,  raised  the  armour 
which  covered  the  earl's  horse  with  his  hand,  and 
stabbed  the  good  charger.  The  Earl  of  Boulogne 
thus  dismounted  was  added  to  the  captives,  who 
amounted  to  five  earls  of  the  highest  name  and 
power,  twenty-five  seigneurs,  or  nobles,  bearing  ban- 
ners, and  nearly  as  many  men  of  inferior  rank  as 
there  were  soldiers  in  the  conquering  army.  Philip, 
considering  his  disparity  of  numbers,  and  satisfied 
with  so  complete  a  victory,  would  not  permit  his 
troops  to  follow  the  enemy  far. 

Such  was  the  celebrated  battle  of  Bouvines,  on 
the   details   of  which  the   French   historians 
dwell  with  national  pride.    It  lasted  from  noon  ^^u 
till  five  in  the  evening.     The  scruples  of  two 
ecclesiastics,  which  prohibited  them  from  shedding 
blood,  were  on  this  occasion  differently  expressed, 
or  rather  evaded.     Guerin  the  hospitaller,  who  was 
also  bishop  elect  of  Senlis,  lent  Philip  the  assist- 
ance of  his  military  experience  in  drawing  up  his 
army,  but  would  not  engage  personally  in  the  action. 
Another  prelate,  Philip,  Bishop  of  Beauvais,  thought 
he  sufficiently  eluded  the  canon  which  prohibited 
churchmen  from  shedding  blood,  by  fighting  like  the 
chaplain  of  the  Cid,  who  used  an  iron  mace  instead 


DEATH  OP  THE  COUNT  OF  BOULOGNE.   255 

of  a  sword.  With  this,  the  scrupulous  prelate  had 
the  honour  to  strike  down  and  make  prisoner  the 
celebrated  Longsword,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  who  com- 
manded such  English  troops  as  were  in  the  battle. 

After  the  victory,  Philip  caused  the  principal  cap- 
tives to  be  conducted  through  Paris  in  a  sort  of  tri- 
umph, and  in  this  procession  Renaud,  Count  of 
Boulogne,  and  Ferrand,  Count  of  Flanders,  were 
distinguished  from  the  rest  by  being  loaded  with 
irons.  The  former  being  brought  before  Philip,  the 
king  upbraided  him  with  his  excommunication,  (for- 
getting how  lately  he  himself  had  been  under  the 
censure  of  the  church,  for  the  affair  of  his  divorce.) 
He  also  charged  him  with  personal  ingratitude,  and 
concluded  by  sending  the  captive  earl  to  the  castle 
of  Peronne,  where  he  was  lodged  in  a  dungeon,  and 
his  motions  limited  by  a  heavy  chain,  attached  to  a 
block  of  iron,  so  weighty  that  two  men  could  not 
lift  it.  Here  the  unfortunate  earl  remained  a  close 
captive,  until  he  heard  that  his  ally  Ferrand,  Earl  of 
Flanders,  had  been  restored  to  freedom,  (though 
under  severe  conditions,)  at  the  supplication  of  his 
wife.  On  finding  that  similar  clemency  was  not 
extended  to  him,  the  Count  of  Boulogne  became 
desperate,  and  ended  his  misfortunes  by  depriving 
himself  of  existence. 

The  second  part  of  the  plan  of  the  allies,  which 
was  to  have  depended  on  the  exertions  of  King 
John  of  England,  proved  as  inefficient  as  all  others 
which  had  been  calculated  upon  the  fortune  and  con- 
duct of  that  unlucky  prince.  John,  no  doubt,  car- 
ried over  an  English  army  to  Rochelle,  and  received 
the  homage  of  many  barons  of  Poitou  and  Nor- 
mandy, who  had  acceded  to  the  league  against 
Philip.     He  took  Angers,  the  capital  of  Anjou,  his 


256  TRUCE    GRANTED    TO    JOHN*. 

family  fief,  but,  except  wasting  and  spoiling  the 
country,  he  did  nothing  further  on  his  side  which 
could  materially  favour  the  great  attempt  of  the 
confederates. 

Philip  having  gained  the  battle  of  Bouvines, 
which  might  be  said  to  secure  the  fate  of  the  crown 
of  France,  by  placing  in  his  power  the  heads  of  so 
formidable  a  conspiracy,  marched  instantly  into 
Poitou  against  John,  yet  showed  no  inclination  to 
carry  the  war  to  extremity  at  present ;  but,  on  re- 
ceiving a  present  of  sixty  thousand  pounds  sterling, 
j^e  granted  the  King  of  England  a  truce  for  the 
space  of  five  years.  For  this  moderation,  Philip 
has  been  censured  by  French  writers,  who  are  of 
opinion  he  should  have  continued  the  war,  until  he 
had  subdued  Rochelle  and  the  few  scattered  French 
towns  and  forts  which  still  acknowledged  the  domi- 
nion of  England. 

But  Philip,  who  was  a  prince  of  far-sighted  poli- 
tical views,  was  aware  that,  in  the  battle  of  Bouvines, 
he  had  been  obliged  to  rely  too  implicitly  upon  the 
assistance  of  his  feudal  vassals,  and  might  think  it 
imprudent  to  make  them,  at  this  moment,  more  sen- 
sible of  their  o^vn  importance,  by  prosecuting  new 
wars  against  John,  in  which  their  assistance  would 
have  been  indispensable.  A  large  sum  of  money 
being  immediately  received,  he  may  be  supposed  to 
have  calculated  to  have  a  sufficient  number  of  mer- 
cenary forces,  by  help  of  which,  at  some  convenient 
period,  the  wreck  of  John's  French  dominions 
might  be  gained,  without  the  assistance  of  his  feu- 
dal militia,  and  of  troops  which  never  could  be  pro- 
perly said  to  be  under  his  own  personal  command. 

During  this  time,  a  remarkable  series  of  transac- 
tions took  place  in  France,  the  review  of  which  I 


CRUSADES    PROFITABLE    TO    THE    POPE.       257 

have  reserved  to  this  place,  that  I  might  not  confuse 
them  hi  your  memory  with  those  which  I  have  been 
thus  recounting. 

The  Popes,  bent  at  once  on  increasing  their 
finances,  and  extending  their  power,  had  found  the 
utmost  advantage  in  the  practice  of  preaching  the 
crusade,  as  the  indispensable  duty  of  all  Christians, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  they  found  it  very  conve- 
nient to  accept  of  large  sums  of  money  from  such 
princes,  nobles,  and  individuals,  as  found  it  more 
convenient  to  purchase  the  privilege  of  remaining  to 
look  after  their  own  affairs,  than  to  assume  the  cross 
for  distant  enterprises. 

These  holy  expeditions  were  originally  confined 
to  the  recovery  of  Palestine.  But,  since  their  effects 
were  .found  in  every  respect  so  profitable  to  the 
church,  it  occurred  to  the  Popes  that  there  might  be 
great  policy  in  extending  the  principles  of  the  holy 
crusade  not  only  to  the  extirpation  of  infidelity  and 
heathenism,  in  foreign  parts,  but  to  that  of  heresy 
at  home.  Accordingly,  as  head  of  the  Christian 
church,  the  Pontiffs  assumed  the  privilege  of  com- 
manding all  Christian  people,  under  the  threat  of 
spiritual  censures  against  those  that  should  disobey, 
and  with  a  corresponding  remuneration  to  such  as 
rendered  spiritual  obedience,  to  rise  up  in  arms,  and 
do  execution  on  such  people,  or  sects,  as  it  had  been 
the  pleasure  of  the  church  to  lay  under  the  ban  of 
excommunication  for  heretical  opinions. 

It  was  in  the  exercise  of  a  privilege  so  frightful, 
by  which  the  Popes  raised  armies  wherever  they 
pleased,  and  employed  them  as  they  chose,  that  the 
south-west  of  France  was  subjected  to  a  horrible 
war.  A  numerous  party  of  dissenters  from  the  faith 
of  Rome,  men  professing,  in  most  respects,  thog© 
22* 


258  CHARACTER    OF    THE    ALBIGENSES. 

doctrines  which  are  now  avowed  by  the  Protestant 
churches,  had  gradually  extended  itself  through  the 
south  of  France,  and  were  particularly  numerous  in 
the  dominions  of  Raymond,  Earl  of  Toulouse. 
The  ecclesiastical  writers  of  the  period  accuse  these 
unfortunate  sectaries  of  professing  abominable  and 
infamous  license,  which  they  are  alleged  to  have 
practised  even  in  their  public  worship  ;  but  there  is 
little  reason  to  doubt  that  this  was  mere  calumny, 
and  that  the  Albigeois,  or  Albigenses,  as  they  were 
termed,  were  a  set  of  obscure,  but  sensible  men, 
whose  minds  could  not  be  reconciled  to  the  extra- 
vagant tenets  of  the  Roman  Church. 

They  did  not  exactly  agree  in  doctrine  amongst 
themselves,  and  probalily  numbered  among  them 
the  obscure  descendants  of  the  Paulicians,  and 
other  ancient  Gothic  churches,  who  had  never  em- 
braced the  faith  of  Rome,  or  yielded  to  its  extrava- 
gant pretensions  of  temporal  authority.  Raymond 
Count  of  Toulouse,  within  whose  dominions  these 
poor  dissenters  found  refuge,  was  a  prince  of  a 
comprehensive  understanding,  and,  though  himself 
professing  no  peculiarity  of  faith,  was,  nevertheless, 
willing  to  grant  liberty  of  conscience  to  all  who  lived 
under  his  sway,  and  was  well  aware  what  temporal 
advantages  might  be  derived  from  a  government  so 
professing  complete  toleration. 

Against  these  unfortunate  Albigenses,  and  their 
protector  Raymond,  Pope  Innocent  III.,  at  the  in- 
stigation of  Saint  Dominic,  and  other  furious  inquis- 
itors of  the  monastic  orders,  proclaimed  a  crusade, 
enjoining  those  persons  who  should  embrace  so 
pious  a  labour,  to  convert  by  the  sword,  those 
who  should  fail  to  lend  an  ear  to  the  preaching  of  the 
monks.     A  numerous  host,  great  part  of  which  was 


CRUSADE    AGAINST    THE    ALBIGENSES.  .269 

levied  among  the  military  adventurers  and  hired 
mercenaries  of  the  age,  and  whose  character  for 
license  and  cruelty  was  scarcely  to  be  matched,  was 
assembled,  under  the  name  of  the  Army  of  the 
Church.  They  were  placed  under  the  command  of 
Simon  de  Montfort,  a  brave,  but  cruel  leader,  and 
a  bigot  to  the  faith  of  Rome.  Under  his  command 
these  crusaders  indulged  an  indiscriminate  thirst  for 
slaughter  and  plunder  amid  the  peaceful  Albigenses, 
without  accurately  distinguishing  the  heretic  from 
the  orthodox,  under  the  pretext  that  they  were  extir- 
pating evil  and  erroneous  opinions,  and  thereby  ren- 
dering acceptable  service  to  God  and  the  Christian 
Church. 

Philip  of  France  gave  way  to  proceedings  which 
he  dared  not  oppose.  He  did  not  himself  embrace 
the  crusade  against  the  Albigenses  ;  but  his  soq, 
Prince  Louis,  came  under  the  obligation,  without 
his  father's  knowledge,  and  against  his  incHnation. 
Count  Raymond  defended  himself  till  after  the  battle 
of  Bouvines,  by  which  time  Simon  de  Montfort, 
with  his  crusaders,  had  attained  such  a  superiority 
over  the  Albigenses,  that  he  rather  regarded  the 
engagement  of  Louis  in  the  crusade  as  matter  of 
jealousy,  than  as  affording  a  prospect  of  support  and 
assistance. 

In  such  circumstances.  Prince  Louis  was  natu- 
rally called  upon  to  rejoice,  when  he  was  summoned 
by  his  father  to  exchange  the  fruitless  and  oppressive 
persecution  against  these  poor  sectaries,  for  a  more 
honourable  warfare,  which  had  for  its  object  the 
conquest  of  England,  and  the  utter  destruction  of 
King  John's  power. 

As  King  John's  misconduct  and  losses  became 
more  and  more  conspicuous  abroad,  his  tyranny 


260  MAGNA    CHARTA    SIGNED    BY    JOHN. 

increased  at  home,  and  as  his  prerogative  grew  in 
fkct  weaker,  he  enraged  his  subjects  by  attempting 
to  extend  its  Hmits  in  the  most  obnoxious  instances. 
He  caused  the  forest  laws,  always  vexatious,  to  be 
executed  with  more  than  usual  severity,  casting 
down  the  enclosures  of  the  royal  forests,  so  that  the 
wild  deer,  and  other  animals  of  the  chase,  might 
have  uncontrolled  access  to  the  crops  of  the  hus- 
bandmen. The  barons  were  equally  discontented 
with  the  people  by  his  violent  and  oppressive  exac- 
tions and  claims,  and  took  the  field  against  him  in 
such  force,  as  obliged  King  John  to  submit  to  their 
just  demands  ;  on  which  occasion,  he  subscribed, 
at  Runnamede,  the  celebrated  grant  of  privileges, 
called  Magna  Charta,  Vvhich  the  English  still  ac- 
count the  bulwark  of  their  liberties. 

As  these  privileges,  however  just  and  equitable  in 
themselves,  were  extorted  most  unwillingly  from  the 
monarch,  the  perfidious  king  took  the  first  opportu- 
nity to  endeavour  to  recall  them.  He  appealed  for 
this  purpose  to  the  Pope,  v»'hom  he  had  created  his 
lord  paramount ;  and  the  Pontiff',  who  received  his 
claim  of  protection  most  favourably,  expressed  him- 
self as  highly  offended  at  some  of  the  articles  of  the 
Great  Charter,  and  swore  he  would  not  suffer  a 
sovereign,  who  was  now  an  obedient  vassal  of  the 
church,  to  be  dictated  to  by  his  subjects  in  such  a 
manner. 

He,  therefore,  annulled  the  grant  of  the  Great 
Charter,  as  extorted  by  force,  and  not  long  after 
fulminated  excommunications  against  the  allied 
barons,  and  all  who  favoured  them.  John  received 
still  more  powerful  assistance  from  a  large  army  of 
mercenary  soldiers,  whom  he  landed  at  Hover,  and 
with  whom  he  took  Rochester.     By  this  reinforce- 


REBELLION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  BARONS.   261 

ment,  the  king  obtained  a  formidable  advantage  over 
the  barons,  who  could  not  always  keep  their  feudal 
followers  under  arms,  since  they  had  their  land  to 
cultivate  and  their  crops  to  gather  in,  whereas  the 
mercenaries  could  be  kept  prepared  for  war  at  all 
times,  and  ready  to  be  in  the  field  at  a  minute's 
warning. 

The  barons  in  this  emergency  adopted  the  despe- 
rate alternative  of  throwing  themselves  into  the 
hands  of  the  King  of  France,  rather  than  submit  to 
the  tyrant  John.  Two  of  their  number  were  des- 
patched to  the  court  of  King  Philip,  offering  to 
transfer  their  own  allegiance,  and  the  kingdom  of 
England,  to  his  eldest  son  Louis,  on  condition  of 
his  bringing  an  army  to  their  assistance.  The  pre- 
tence of  this  interference  on  the  part  of  France  might 
be,  that  when  the  crown  vassals  were  oppressed  by 
their  immediate  lord,  their  lord  paramount  had  a 
right  to  interfere  for  their  redress. 

Even  that  excuse  would  not  have  justified  in 
feudal  law  the  substitution  of  the  son  in  the  fief, 
which,  if  forfeited  at  all,  was  an  escheat  to  the  father. 
But  the  case  of  the  barons  was  desperate,  and,  con- 
scious of  John's  revengeful  temper,  they  sought  for 
aid  in  the  only  manner  in  which  they  saw  a  chance 
of  obtaining  it.  Accordingly,  the  tempting  offer  of 
a  crown  prevailed  on  Philip  and  his  son,  the  former 
in  secret,  and  the  latter  openly,  to  accept  eagerly 
the  proposal  of  the  barons,  and  to  send  an  army  of 
seven  thousand  men  to  reinforce  the  insurgent  party 
in  England,  while  Louis  himself  prepared  a  stronger 
expedition. 

On  the  23d  of  May,  Louis  arrived  before 
Sandwich,  with  a  gallant  navy  of  six  hundred  ^^jg* 
sail,  disembarked  a  corresponding  number  of 


262  EXCOMMUNICATLON    OF    LOUIS. 


land  forces,  marched  towards  London,  and,  having 
taken  Rochester  in  his  route,  was  welcomed  with 
acclamations  by  the  citizens.  Here  he  received  the 
homage  of  the  barons  who  had  invited  him  to  their 
aid. 

Hitherto  every  thing  had  been  in  favour  of  the 
young  Prince  of  France,  and  the  affairs  of  John 
went  to  ruin  on  all  sides.  The  legate  of  the  Pope 
strove  in  vain  to  defend  him  by  the  fulminations  of 
the  church.  These  were  addressed  both  against 
Philip  and  his  son  Louis ;  but  as  the  former  mo- 
narch disavowed  in  public  the  proceedings  of  his 
son,  the  effectual  excommunication  fell  only  upon 
Louis  himself,  who,  receiving  from  his  father  by 
underhand  means  the  encouragement  and  the  sup- 
plies which  were  openly  refused  to  him,  and  being, 
moreover,  at  the  head  of  a  military  force,  set  at  de- 
fiance the  consequences  of  the  spiritual  censures. 
Indeed,  it  may  be  observed,  that,  even  during  this 
period,  (although  that  in  which  the  Romish  church 
had  the  greatest  influence  on  the  world  at  large,) 
the  Pope's  excommunication  was  effectual,  or  other- 
wise, according  to  the  opinion  entertained  by  the 
nation  in  general,  of  the  justice  of  the  sentence. 

Thus  we  have  seen,  that  a  sentence  of  the  church 
reduced  John  to  almost  total  ruin,  from  which  he 
only  saved  himself  by  the  most  absolute  submission, 
and  the  transference  of  his  dominions  to  the  Roman 
see.  On  the  other  hand,  the  curse  of  Rome  did 
not  greatly  affect  Prince  Louis,  while  the  barons  of 
England  continued  to  espouse  his  cause.  And  not 
long  subsequent  to  this  time,  Robert  Bruce  of  Scot- 
land, excommunicated  as  he  was  for  the  murder  of 
Comyn,  found  the  spiritual  censure  no  great  impe- 
diment to  the  recovery  of  his  crown.    So  that  it  was 


SIEGE    OF    DOVER    CASTLE.  263 


the  force  of  public  opinion,  which  added  much  to 
the  effectual  weight  of  the  anathema  of  the  church. 

But  the  affairs  of  Louis  were  deranged  by  cir- 
cumstances different  from,  and  independent  of,  the 
Pope's  sentence  of  excommunication,  although,  as 
the  scale  turned,  that  sentence  acquired  weight 
which  it  had  not  when  first  pronounced.  In  the 
space  of  the  first  two  months  Louis  marched  suc- 
cessfully through  England,  and  reduced  the  whole 
southern  parts  of  that  kingdom  to  his  obedience. 
But  he  met  a  check  before  the  castle  of  Dover, 
which  was  defended  with  obstinacy  and  success  by 
Hubert  de  Burgh,  and  a  select  garrison.  The  most 
formidable  military  engine  of  the  French  was  in 
vain  pointed  against  the  walls  of  a  place  strong  by 
nature,  and  fortified  with  all  the  skill  of  the  period. 

Although  success  seemed  almost  impossible, 
Louis  continued  the  siege  with  unavailing  obstinacy, 
and  the  tim.e  which  he  wasted  before  Dover,  gave 
John  leisure  once  more  to  collect  his  forces,  and 
afforded  opportunity  for  dissensions  to  spring  up 
among  the  allies  of  Prince  Louis.  Windsor  Castle 
was  besieged  by  the  prince  with  the  same  ill  success 
as  Dover.  John  was  once  more  at  the  head  of  a 
formidable  army,  and  what  was  still  more  ominous 
to  the  cause  of  Louis,  the  English  barons  began  to 
draw  off  from  his  side,  on  discerning  that  he  treated 
his  countrymen  with  undue  partiality,  and  afforded 
little  countenance  to  the  lords  of  England  who  had 
joined  him.  A  report  was  spread,  that  the  discount 
of  Melun  had,  on  his  death-bed,  confessed  a  pur- 
pose on  the  part  of  Louis  to  put  to  death  the  barons 
who  had  joined  his  party,  as  traitors  to  their  natural 
monarch.  Whether  the  report  was  founded  in  truth 
or  not,  it  was  certainly  believed,  insomuch,  that 


264  DEATH    OF    KING    JOHN.  ^ 

several  nobles  of  distinction  deserted  the  cause  of 
Louis,  and  returned  to  their  original  allegiance. 

Many  or  most  others  were  only  withheld  from 
doing  the  same,  from  a  dread  of  the  false  and  vin- 
dictive character  of  John,  when,  at  this  critical 
period,  an  event  took  place  which  fortunately  saved 
England  from  the  dreadful  alternative  of  a  foreign 
yoke,  or  a  bloody  civil  war.  King  John  delivered 
the  country  from  the  extremity  to  which  he  had  re- 
duced it,  by  his  sudden  death,  the  only  thing  which 
could  have  relieved  it.  This  prince,  whose  tyranny 
had  occasioned  the  evils  of  his  kingdom,  and  the 
general  apprehension  of  whose  perfidy  prevented 
their  being  removed,  died  at  Newark-upon- 
Trent,  at  the  yet  robust  age  of  forty-nine  J^2i6* 
years,  on  19th  October,  1216. 

This  opportune  event  changed  the  scene,  for  the 
revolted  barons,  already  inclined  to  return  to  their 
allegiance,  had  now  to  treat  with  a  young  prince  of 
the  native  family  of  their  own  kings,  instead  of  a 
foreigner,  whose  faith  they  had  some  reason  to  dis- 
trust, or  the  tyrant  John,  whose  treachery  and  cruel- 
ty were  alike  to  be  dreaded. 

Henry  III.,  the  eldest  son  and  successor  of  John, 
was  only  in  his  tenth  year,  so  that  the  assistance  of 
a  guardian,  or  protector,  was  absolutely  necessary. 
The  Earl  of  Pembroke,  a  wise  and  brave  nobleman, 
was  chosen  to  this  eminent  but  difficult  office. 
Loyal  to  the  young  prince,  he  was,  at  the  same  time, 
friendly  to  the  hberties  of  the  subject,  and  his  first 
act  was,  as  a  voluntary  grant  on  the  part  of  the 
crown,  to  renew  the  Great  Charter  of  the  Liberties 
which  John  had  granted  with  so  much  formality,  and 
afterwards  endeavoured  to  retract.  This  open  and 
manly  measure  served  as  an  assurance  that,  in  the 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  FRENCH.         265 

new  reign,  the  regal  power  was  to  be  administered 
with  due  respect  to  the  freedom  of  the  subject ;  and 
in  consequence,  the  EngHsh  barons,  who  could  have 
no  cause  of  personal  complaint  against  the  young 
king,  began,  upon  this  favourable  prospect,  to  throng 
back  to  his  standard,  and  to  desert  that  of  Louis  of 
France. 

Louis,  who  had  received  considerable  reinforce- 
ments from  his  father,  and  was  naturally  reluctant 
to  abandon  what  was  once  so  hopeful  an  enterprise, 
still  imprudently  persevered  in  his  attempts  on  Dover 
Castle,  without  being  able  to  overcome  the  resis- 
tance of  Hubert  de  Burgh.  Other  indecisive  sieges 
and  skirmishes  took  place,  until  at  length,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  summer  1217,  the  French 
army,  under  the  Earl  of  Perche,  was  totally  ^^u 
defeated  under  the  walls  of  Lincoln,  and  in 
the  streets  of  the  town.  This  disaster  closed  the 
struggle,  and  a  treaty  of  peace  was  concluded  be- 
twixt Louis  and  the  Lord  Protector,  Pembroke,  by 
which  the  former  honourably  stipulated  for  the  in- 
demnity of  such  English  barons  as  adhered  to  his 
party,  and  for  the  freedom,  without  ransom,  of  the 
numerous  French  prisoners  taken  at  the  battle  of 
Lincoln. 

Under  these  conditions,  Louis  resigned  his  pre- 
tensions to  the  crown  of  England,  and  engaged  to 
use  his  intercession  with  his  father  for  the  restora- 
tion of  the  fief  of  Normandy,  and  others  conquered 
from  King  John  by  Philip ;  and  if  his  intercession 
should  prove  ineffectual,  the  prince  further  bound 
himself  to  restore  these  foreign  dominions  to  Eng- 
land, when  he  himself  should  accede  to  the  throne 
of  France.  Prince  Louis  accordingly  withdrew  to 
France  with  all  his  forces,  leaving  the  young  prince 

VOL.   I.  23 


266  LOUIS    AVITHDRAWS    FROM    ENGLAND. 

Henry,  peacefully  seated  upon  the  throne.  Thus 
terminated  an  important  crisis,  which  threatened  in 
the  commencement  to  make  England  a  province  of 
France,  as  a  fair  and  fertile  part  of  France  had,  in 
the  time  of  the  kings  succeeding  the  Conquest,  been 
fiefs  of  England,  until  taken  from  John,  who  ac- 
quired from  his  loss  of  territory  the  dishonourable 
title  of  Lack-land,  or  landless. 

Louis,  the  Prince  of  France,  having  left  one  field 
of  strife  in  England,  found  in  his  own  country 
another,  which  was  almost  equally  unsuccessful. 
This  was  the  renewed  war  against  the  unfortunate 
heretics  in  the  south  of  France,  called  the  Albigen^ 
ses.  These  unhappy  people  had  been  treated  with 
much  oppression  and  cruelty  by  Simon  de  Montfort^ 
who  came  against  them  at  the  head  of  the  dissolute 
and  disorderly  bands  who  were  called  crusaders, 
conquered  them,  and  had  been  created  their  earl,  or 
count.  But  he  continued  to  persecute  the  heretics 
with  such  unrelenting  severity,  and  so  oppressed 
them,  that,  being  able  to  endure  their  sufferings  no 
longer,  they  rushed  to  arms,  restored  their  old  Count 
Raymond  to  the  government  of  his  fief,  and  became 
again  formidable.  Simon  de  Montfort  hastened 
once  more  to  form  the  siege  of  Toulouse  ;  but  the 
cause  of  the  oppressed  was  victorious,  and  this  cruel 
and  tyrannical  leader  fell  before  the  city,  while  his 
wife  and  family  remained  the  prisoners  of  the  Albi- 
genses. 

The  Pope,  alarmed  at  the  success  of. these 
heretics,  as  he  termed  them,  became  urgent  with 
King  Philip  to  be  active  against  them,  while  an 
assembly  of  the  church,  held  at  Mantes,  again 
determined  on  preaching  the  crusade  against  the 
Albigenses.     Philip,  although  he  himself  had  gone 


ClltJSAftE    AGAINST    THE    ALBIGENSES.        26T 

to  Palestine,  in  his  memorable  crusade  with  King 
Richard,  was  by  no  means  a  favourer  of  these  im- 
politic expeditions.  On  the  other  hand,  he  dared 
not  refuse  the  request  of  the  Pope  and  clergy,  and 
reluctantly  permitted  his  son  Louis,  with  an  army  of 
fifteen  thousand  men,  again  to  take  the  cross  against 
the  heretics  in  the  south  of  France.  But  the  prince 
prosecuted  the  war  with  so  much  coldness,  that  it 
was  supposed  Louis  was  either  indifferent  in  the 
cause  himself,  6r  had  private  instructions  from  his 
father  not  to  conduct  it  with  activity.  At  length  he 
was  recalled  from  the  enterprise  entirely,  by  his 
father's  command.  The  pretext  was,  the  necessity 
of  the  prince's  attendance  on  a  grand  council,  to  be 
held  at  Mantes,  for  considering  an  offer  made  by 
Amaury,  son  of  Simon  de  Montfort. 

This  young  man,  the  heir  of  the  title  which  his 
fe-ther  had  acquired  over  Toulouse  by  his  first  con- 
quest, thought  he  perceived  the  reason  why  France 
was  so  cold  in  recovering  these  possessions.  He 
therefore  proposed  to  cede  to  the  crown  of  France 
his  own  right  to  the  earldom,  that  Philip  and  his  son 
might  have  a  deep  personal  interest  in  carrying  on 
the  war  with  vigour.  This  would  probably  have 
given  more  activity  to  the  movements  of  Philip 
Augustus  against  the  Albigenses.  But  he  did  not 
survive  to  accept  of  the  cession  offered  by  De 
Montfort,  as  he  died  of  a  fever  at  Mantes,  in  ^  ^ 
July,  1223.  1223.* 

He  was  incomparably  the  greatest  prince  that  had 
held  the  French  throne  since  the  days  of  Charle- 
magne. At  his  death,  he  left  the  proper  dominions 
of  France  nearly  doubled  in  extent,  by  his  valour 
and  prudence,  and  greatly  improved  in  wealth, 
strength,  and  convenience,  by  the  formation  of  roads, 


268      DISPUTES    BETWEEN    HENRY    AND    LOUIS. 

the  fortification  of  defenceless  towns,  the  creation  of 
public  works,  and  other  national  improvements, 
arising  from  his  wise  administration. 

He  was  in  general  successful  in  his  military 
exploits,  as  much  owing  to  the  sagacity  with  which 
he  planned,  as  to  the  bravery  with  which  he  executed 
them.  The  battle  of  Bouvines,  in  particular,  was 
one  of  those  decisive  contests  upon  which  the  fate 
of  nations  depends  ;  and  had  Philip  been  defeated, 
it  is  certain  that  France  would  have  been  divided  by 
Otho  and  the  confederates,  and  doubtful,  to  say  the 
least,  whether  it  could  have  been  again  united  into 
one  single  kingdom  of  the  first  rank. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

Philip  Augustus  was  succeeded  in  his  throne 
by  his  eldest  son,  Louis  VHI.,  whose  unsuccessful 
wars  in  England  we  have  already  noticed.  He  was 
called  by  the  surname  of  the  Lion,  from  his  personal 
courage,  doubtless,  rather  than  from  his  success  in 
arms,  of  which  last  he  had  not  much  to  boast. 

He  had  scarcely  assumed  the  throne,  when  he 
was  greeted  by  an  ambassador  from  Henry  HI., 
demanding  the  restoration  of  the  provinces  which 
the  English  monarch's  ancestors  had  held  in 
France,  in  terms  of  the  treaty  made  and  sworn  to 
when  he  left  England  in  1217.  Louis  was,  how- 
ever, determined  on  no  account  to  comply  with  this 
article,  the  fulfilment  of  which  would  have  occasion- 
ed  the  revival  of  the  EngUsh  power  in  France, 


WAR    AGAINST    THE    ENGLISH.  269 

which  had  been  so  serious  a  subject  of  annoyance 
and  apprehension  to  his  predecessors.  In  vindica- 
tion of  the  breach  of  his  oath,  he  alleged  that  the  Eng- 
lish, on  their  part,  had  not  fulfilled  the  treaty  of  1217, 
that  some  of  the  English  barons  of  his  party  had 
met  with  usage  contrary  to  the  promise  of  indemnity 
pledged  in  their  behalf,  and  that  some  French  pri- 
soners, made  at  the  battle  of  Lincoln,  instead  of 
being  set  at  liberty  in  terms  of  the  compact,  had  been 
compelled  to  ransom  themselves. 

Taking  upon  him,  therefore,  the  character  of  one 
who  had  sustained  and  not  inflicted  a  wrong,  King 
Louis,  instead  of  restoring  Normandy,  proceeded, 
in  imitation  of  his  father's  policy,  to  invade  and  be- 
siege those  towns  which  the  English  still  possessed 
in  Poitou  ;  and  Niort,  Saint  Jean  d'Angeli,  and 
finally  Rochelle  itself,  fell  into  his  hands,  after  a 
valiant  defence.  Bourdeaux,  and  the  country 
beyond  the  Garonne,  was  the  only  part  of  the  ample 
dominions  within  France,  once  acknowledging  the 
English  authority,  which  still  remained  subject  to 
that  power.  This  territory  would  probably  have 
followed  the  fate  of  the  other  forfeited  or  reconquer- 
ed fiefs  ;  but  Henry  IIL ,  now  a  young  man,  sent  an 
expedition,  commanded  by  his  brother  Richard,  Earl 
of  Cornwall,  and  consisting  of  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  troops,  to  its  relief.  At  the  same  time  he 
created  Richard  Count  of  Poitou. 

The  Gascons  were  favourable  to  the  English, 
with  whom  they  maintained  a  profitable  traffic. 
They  were  also  flattered  by  the  proposal  to  place 
them  immediately  under  the  command  of  a  prince 
of  the  English  blood  royal,  and  prepared  to  resist  the 
invasion  of  Louis  so  obstinately,  that  the  King  a-  d. 
of  France  thought  it  judicious  to  consent  to  a  * 
23* 


270        CRUSADE    AGAINST    THE    ALBIGENSES. 

truce  for  three  years.  He  had  indeed  still 
upon  his  hands  the  civil  war  with  the  Albigenses  ; 
and  though  he  has  been  blamed  for  granting  the 
English  a  truce,  it  may  be  supposed  he  acted  wisely 
in  undertaking  only  one  of  these  formidable  enter- 
prises at  a  time. 

He  was  urged  to  renew  the  crusade  against  the 
southern  heretics,  by  the  legate  of  the  Pope,  but  in 
consenting  to  do  so,  failed  not  to  secure  such  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  adventure,  as  might  ensure  to 
himself  the  principal  advantage  of  its  success.  For 
this  purpose,  Louis  renewed  the  treaty  which  his 
father  had  commenced  with  Amaury  de  Montfort, 
and  promising  to  that  count  the  post  of  High  Con- 
stable of  France,  when  a  vacancy  should  occur,  he 
accepted  from  him  the  cession  of  all  rights  he  in- 
herited from  his  father,  the  Count  of  Toulouse. 

Having  thus  provided  for  his  own  interest  in  the 
undertaking,  the  kmg  assembled  an  army  of  fifty 
thousand  men,  consisting  of  the  best  and  boldest  of 
his  vassals,  at  the  head  of  their  followers.  With  this 
large  force  he  first  besieged  Avignon,  where  the  citi- 
zens were  at  first  disposed  to  open  their  gates,  but 
refused  to  receive  any  person  within  them,  except  the 
king  with  his  ordinary  train.  But  unlimited  access 
was  demanded,  and  the  townsmen,  afraid  too  justly 
of  pillage  and  massacre,  shut  their  gates,  and  stood 
on  their  defence.  They  fought  with  the  utmost 
obstinacy,  and  the  besiegers  lost  above  two  thou- 
sand men,  amongst  whom  was  that  celebrated  Comte 
de  Saint  Paul,  who  had  acquired  so  much  honour  at 
the  battle  of  Bouvines. 

At  length  the  citizens  of  Avignon  were  compelled 
to  Submit  to  a  capitulation,  the  terms  of  which  were 
uncommonly  severe.       The  establishment  of  the 


DEATH    OF    LOUIS    THE    LION.  271 

Roman  Catholic  religion  was  exclusively  provided 
for  ;  and  two  hundred  hostages  were  given  to  that 
effect,  sons  of  the  most  wealthy  inhabitants.  Some 
of  those  who  had  conducted  the  defence  were  hang- 
ed, or  otherwise  punished ;  the  fortifications  were 
dismantled  ;  the  ditches  filled  up  ;  and  three  hun- 
dred of  the  best  houses  were  levelled  with  the 
ground,  to  complete  the  humiliation  of  the  city. 

After  Avignon  had  surrendered,  it  was  the  object 
of  Louis  to  march  against  Toulouse,  and  inflict  a 
similar  vengeance  on  that  town,  the  metropolis  of 
the  revolted  provinces.  But  his  army  had  suffered 
so  severely  from  want  of  provisions,  from  the  sword, 
and  from  pestilential  disease,  that  the  king  was  com- 
pelled to  grant  them  some  relaxation  from  military 
duty,  which  they  were  not  at  the  time  capable  of 
discharo;ino-. 

But  Louis  had  himself  performed  before  Avignon 
his  last  campaign.  On  retiring  to  Monpensier,  he 
was  seized  with  a  fever,  of  which  he  died,  12th 
1226.  November,  having  reigned  only  four  years, 
and  being  in  the  very  prime  of  his  manhood. 
He  was  succeeded  by  his  only  son,  who  bore  his 
own  name,  and  was  afterwards  distinguished  in  the 
royal  catalogue  by  the  title  of  Saint  Louis.  The 
epithet  of  Saint,  in  those  superstitious  times,  inferred 
at  least  as  much  weakness  as  virtue  ;  and  we  shall 
see  that  Louis,  while  he  was  an  honour  to  the  cha- 
racter in  the  higher  virtues,  was  not  without  the  im- 
perfections usually  attending  a  reputation  for  sanc- 
tity, comprehending,  of  course,  much  devotion  to  the 
Pope,  and  great  liberality  to  the  church. 

The  Queen  Blanche,  relict  of  the  deceased  ilfion- 
arch,  acted  as  regent  for  her  son.  She  was  eldest 
daughter  of  Alphonso,  King  of  Castile,  by  his  wife 


272       CONSPIRACY    OF    THE    CROWN    VASSALS. 

Eleanor,  daughter  of  that  celebrated  Eleanor  of 
Aquitaine,  by  her  second  marriage  with  Henry  11.  of 
England.  The  character  of  Blanche,  during  the  life 
of  her  husbaod,  had  not  been  called  forth  to  any 
remarkable  display;  but  Louis  YIII.,  who  had  great 
confidence  in  her  wisdom,  had  named  her  in  his  set- 
tlement the  regent  of  France,  until  his  son  should 
attain  the  years  of  majority.  She  had,  therefore,  an 
arduous  duty  to  discharge,  especially  as  very  many 
of  the  crown  vassals  of  the  highest  rank,  dissatisfied 
with  the  power  attained  by  the  king  during  the  last 
two  reigns,  had  formed  a  league  together,  upon  the 
principle  of  that  which  was  adopted  by  the  confede- 
rates, previous  to  the  battle  of  Bouvines,  and  the 
purpose  of  which,  Philip's  victory  in  that  battle  had 
for  the  time  disconcerted. 

The  opportune  occurrence  of  a  minority,  during 
which  the  crown's  authority  was  to  be  administered 
by  a  female,  and  a  foreigner,  seemed,  to  various  of 
the  petty  princes,  who  were  ambitious  of  rivalling 
the  king  in  all  but  the  name,  a  time  highly  fitted  for 
recovering  by  force,  if  necessary,  that  degree  of  in- 
dependence of  which  they  had  been  deprived  by  the 
policy  and  success  of  Philip  Augustus  and  his  short- 
lived son,  Louis  the  Lion.  The  still  existing  insur- 
rection of  the  Albigenses  was  a  great  encourage- 
ment to  the  confederates,  and  Raymond  of  Toulouse 
was  one  of  the  most  zealous  of  their  number.  He 
was  one  who  could  be  easily  justified  ;  for,  while 
the  others  became  rebels  and  conspirators,  for  ob- 
jects of  personal  power  and  ambition,  to  which  they 
had  a  very  doubtful  claim,  Raymond  was  a  prince 
unjustly  deprived  of  his  territories,  which  he  was 
naturally  desirous  to  recover. 

The    other   nobles   engaged  in   the   conspiracy 


AJ>DIt£SS    OP    aUEEN    BLANCHE.  273 

against  the  queen  regent  were,  Philip,  Count  of 
Boulogne,  the  brother  of  the  late  king,  who  claimed 
the  regency  as  of  right  appertaining  to  him  by  de- 
scent ;  the  powerful  Earls  or  Counts  Thibault,  of 
Champagne,  Hugh  de  la  Marche,  Hugh  de  Saint 
Paul,  Simon  de  Ponthieu  ;  there  was,  besides,  Peter, 
Duke  of  Bretagne  ;  all  princes  of  the  first  rank  for 
wealth  and  power,  which  it  was  their  object  to  hold 
with  no  greater  degree  of  dependence  on  the  crown 
of  France,  than  they  might  find  indispensable.  In 
fact,  it  was  their  object  to  deprive  the  king  of  all 
power,  beyond  what  might  become  a  president  of 
the  cour  pleniere,  and  general  of  the  armies  of  the 
kingdom. 

Alone,  or  nearly  so,  a  stranger  and  a  woman,  oppo- 
sed to  so  many  powerful  nobles,  Blanche  conducted 
herself  with  great  courage  and  ability.  Ere  the  con- 
federates had  matured  their  plan  of  hostilities,  she 
suddenly  attacked  Raymond  of  Toulouse,  reduced 
him  to  ask  terms  by  which  he  became  bound  to 
renounce  the  heretical  opinions  of  the  Albigenses, 
and  to  give  his  daughter  and  heiress  in  marriage  to 
Alphonso,  her  own  fourth  son  by  the  late  king,  and 
thus  secured  the  final  reversion  of  these  rich  terri- 
tories to  the  royal  family. 

The  next  part  of  her  undertaking  was  the  sub- 
jugation of  the  confederates,  who  laid  aside  the 
mask,  and  began  to  show  their  real  purpose ;  and 
here  her  female  power,  extreme  beauty  and  corres- 
ponding address,  were  of  the  greatest  service.  Thi- 
bault, Count  of  Champagne,  a  prince  of  great  pos- 
sessions, was  renowned  alike  as  a  good  knight,  and 
as  an  excellent  troubadour,  or  poet,  in  which  capa- 
city he  had  even  during  the  life  of  her  husband, 
Louis  Vni.,  selected  as  the  theme  of  his  praise,  and 


274     Blanche's  influence  over 

the  sovereign  mistress  of  his  affections,  no  other 
than  Blanche  herself.  The  adoration  of  a  poet,  in 
those  times,  had  in  it  nothing  that  was  necessarily 
hurtful  to  a  lady's  reputation  :  nevertheless,  it  was 
said  the  queen  had  expressed  resentment  at  the 
liberty  which  the  Count  of  Champagne  had  taken  in 
fixing  his  affections  so  high,  and  in  making  his  ad- 
miration so  public. 

It  is  even  surmised,  that  the  severity  with  which 
the  queen  treated  the  enamoured  poet,  was  so 
highly  resented  by  him,  that  his  mortification  was 
the  cause  of  his  joining  the  confederates.  But  a 
woman  of  address  and  beauty  knows  well  how  to 
recover  the  affections  of  an  offended  lover  ;  and  if 
her  admirer  should  be  of  a  romantic  and  poetical 
temperament,  he  is  still  more  easily  recalled  to  his 
allegiance.  It  cost  the  queen  but  artfully  throwing 
out  a  hint,  that  she  would  be  pleased  to  see  Thibault 
at  court ;  and  the  faithful  lover  was  at  her  feet,  and 
at  her  command.  On  two  important  occasions,  the 
enamoured  troubadour  disconcerted  the  plans  of  his 
■political  confederates,  like  a  faithful  knight,  in  obe- 
dience to  the  commands  of  the  lady  of  his  affections. 

Upon  one  of  these  occasions,  Count  Thibault 
gave  private  intimation  of  a  project  of  the  male- 
contents  to  seize  the  person  of  the  queen,  on  a  jour- 
ney from  Orleans  to  Paris.  Their  purpose,  being 
once  known,  was  easily  defeated,  by  the  queen- 
mother  throwing  herself  and  her  son  into  a  strong 
fortress,  till  a  suitable  escort  was  collected  to  ensure 
their  passage  in  safety  to  the  capital.  On  another 
occasion,  the  king  having  called  an  assembly  of  his 
nobles  to  oppose  Peter  of  Bretagne,  who  had  ap- 
peared in  open  arms,  the  conspiring  nobles  agreed 
to  bring  each  to  the  rendezvous  a  party  of  follow- 


THE    COUNT    OF    CHAMPAGNE,  275 

ers,  in  apparent  obedience  to  the  royal  command, 
which,  though  it  should  seem  but  moderate,  in  regard 
to  each  individual  prince's  retinue,  should,  when 
united,  form  a  preponderating  force.  But  this  stra- 
tagem was  also  disconcerted  by  the  troubadour  Earl 
of  Champagne,  who,  to  please  his  royal  mistress, 
brought  a  stronger  attendance  than  all  the  others  put 
together,  so  that,  as  none  of  the  other  great  vassals 
dared  to  take  the  part  of  Peter  of  Bretagne,  he  was 
obliged  to  submit  to  the  royal  authority. 

The  Count  of  Champagne  had  like  to  have  dearly 
bought  his  compliance  with  the  pleasure  of  his  lady- 
love, instead  of  pursuing  the  line  of  politics  of  the 
confederates.  He  was  attacked  by  the  whole  con- 
federacy, who,  enraged  at  his  tergiversation,  agreed 
to  expel  him  from  his  country,  and  confer  Cham- 
pagne upon  the  Queen  of  Cyprus,  who  had  some 
claim  to  it  as  heiress  of  Thibault's  elder  brother. 
Blanche  was  so  far  grateful  to  her  devoted  lover, 
that  she  caused  her  son  to  march  to  his  succour,  and 
repel  the  attack  on  his  territories. 

Yet  she  sought  to  gain  something  for  the  crown, 
by  this  act  of  kindness,  and  therefore  intimated  to 
the  count,  that,  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  war, 
and  compensate  the  claims  of  his  niece,  it  would  be 
expedient  that  he  should  sell  to  the  young  king  his 
territories  of  Blois,  Chartres,  Cnateaudun,  and  San- 
sevre.  The  count  murmured  forth  some  remon- 
strances, in  being  required  to  part  with  so  valuable 
a  portion  of  his  estates.  But  so  soon  as  Blanche, 
with  a  displeased  look,  reproached  him  with  his  dis- 
obedience and  ingratitude,  he  fetched  a  deep  sigh, 
as  he  replied,  "  By  my  faith,  madam,  my  heart,  my 
body,  my  life,  my  land,  are  all  at  your  absolute  dis- 


276       THE    CONSPIRACY    AMONG    THE    NOBLES 

posal !"  The  crown  of  France  acquired  the  terri- 
tory accordingly. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  devotions  of  this 
infatuated  lover  were  offensive  to  Queen  Blanche 
herself,  who,  as  a  woman,  might  be  proud  of  her 
absolute  influence  over  a  man  of  talents,  and,  as  a 
politician,  might  judge  it  desirable  to  preserve  that 
influence  over  a  powerful  nobleman,  when  it  was 
maintained  at  the  cheap  price  of  an  obliging  word, 
or  glance.  But  some  of  the  French  courtiers  grew 
impatient  of  the  absurd  pretensions  of  Thibault  to 
the  queen's  favour.  They  instigated  Robert  of 
Artois,  one  of  the  sons  of  Louis  VIII.,  who  was 
little  beyond  childhood,  to  put  an  affront  upon  the 
Count  of  Champagne,  by  throwing  a  soft  crearn- 
cheese  in  his  face. 

Enthusiasm  of  every  kind  is  peculiarly  sensible 
to  ridicule.  Thibault  became  aware  that  he  was? 
laughed  at,  and  as  the  rank  and  youth  of  the  culprit 
prevented  the  prince  being  the  subject  of  revenge, 
the  Count  of  Champagne  retired  from  the  court  for 
ever,  and  in  his  feudal  dominions  endeavoured  to 
find  consolation  in  the  favour  of  the  muses,  for  the 
rigour,  and  perhaps  the  duplicity,  of  his  royal  mis- 
tress. This  troubadour  monarch  afterwards  became 
King  of  Navarre,  and  his  extravagant  devotion  to 
beauty  and  poetry  did  not  prevent  his  being  held,  in 
those  days,  a  sagacious  as  well  as  accomplished 
sovereign. 

Other  intrigues  the  queen-mother  was  able  to  dis- 
concert, by  timely  largesses  bestowed  upon  the 
needy  among  the  conspirators,  while  some  she  sub- 
dued by  force  of  arms.  In  the  latter  case,  she  com- 
mitted the  conduct  of  the  royal  forces  to  Ferrand,. 
Earl  of  Flanders,  the  same  who  was  taken  prisoner 


SUPPRESSED    BY    THE    QUEEN    REGENT.       277 

at  the  battle  of  Bouvines,  who  conducted  himself 
with  all  the  fidelity  and  intelligence  she  could  have 
desired.  And,  in  short,  by  patience,  courage,  poli- 
cy, and  well-used  opportunity.  Queen  Blanche  not 
only  preserved  that  degree  of  authority  which  was 
attached  to  the  throne  when  she  was  called  to  the 
administration  of  affairs,  but  consolidated  and  aug- 
mented it  considerably. 

It  may  be  that  the  wars  and  intrigues  of  the 
Queen  of  France  would  have  ended  less  fortunately, 
if  the  weight  of  England  had  been  thrown  into  the 
opposite  scale  ;  and  you  may  wonder  that  this  was 
not  the  case,  since  no  time  could  have  occurred 
more  suitable  than  the  minority  of  Saint  Louis,  for 
the  recovery  of  those  French  territories  which  the 
skill  and  conduct  of  Philip  Augustus  won  from  the 
imbecility  of  his  contemporary,  King  John.  In- 
deed, at  the  accession  of  Louis  YIIL,  when  the 
period  was  less  favourable,  Henry  III.,  or  his  coun- 
sellors, had,  as  we  observed,  made  a  formal  demand 
that  Normandy,  and  the  other  provinces  claimed  by 
England,  should  be  restored. 

But  although  many  of  the  barons  of  the  provinces 
once  attached  to  England  offered  their  assistance 
eagerly  ;  although  the  possession  of  Bourdeaux  ren- 
dered a  descent  easy  ;  although  the  Duke  of  Bre- 
tagne,  whom  we  have  mentioned  as  a  chief  of  the 
league  against  the  crown  of  France,  endeavoured  to 
urge  the  court  of  England  to  an  invasion,  which  he 
pledged  himself  to  support  with  his  utmost  force  ; 
yet  the  character  of  Henry  III.  of  England  v/as 
totally  unfit  for  such  an  undertaking.  He  had  some 
of  his  father  John's  faults,  being,  though  less  cruel 
than  he,  fully  as  timid  in  his  person,  and  as  rash  in 
his  attempts.    He  was  extravagantly  expensive,  and 

VOL.  I.  24 


278  henry's  invasion  of  France. 

notoriously  faithless ;  an  encroacher  upon  the  rights 
of  his  subjects,  and  repeatedly  guilty  of  the  breach 
of  his  n)(tst  solemn  promises  and  engagements  to 
them.  Henry  was  also,  like  his  father,  an  indolent 
and  wretched  conductor  of  an  undertaking  requiring 
activity  and  resolution. 

In  1229,  Henry  did  indeed  attempt  his  long- 
1229  threatened  invasion  of  France  ;  but  with  so 
little  precaution,  that,  when  his  army  was  as- 
eembled,  it  was  found  there  had  been  no  care  taken 
to  provide  an  adequate  number  of  vessels.  They 
passed  to  St.  Maloes,  however,  and  were  joined  by 
the  Duke  of  Bretagne,  with  all  his  forces  ;  but  in- 
stead of  leading  the  army  to  action,  Henry  spent  the 
money  which  had  been  provided  for  their  support  in 
mere  lavish  and  expensive  follies,  and  returned  to 
England  after  three  or  four  months'  idle  and  useless 
stay  in  France,  almost  without  having  broken  a 
lance  in  the  cause  which  had  induced  him  to  leave 
his  kingdom.  On  returning  to  England,  this  impru- 
dent prince  became  engaged  in  those  intestine  divi- 
sions with  his  people  which  were  called  the  Barons* 
Wars,  and  which  left  him  no  time,  if  he  had  had 
inclination,  to  trouble  himself  about  the  affairs  of 
France. 

Meantime,  the  Duke  of  Bretagne,  deserted  by 
his  ally,  was  hard  pressed  by  the  royal  forces,  and 
demanded  a  respite  only  till  he  should  make  appli- 
cation to  Henry  for  relief.  On  receiving  a  refusal, 
the  unfortunate  duke  saw  himself  obliged  to  present 
himself  before  his  sovereign,  the  King  of  France, 
with  a  halter  around  his  neck,  and  solicit  mercy  in 
the  most  humiliating  terms.  The  disgrace  of  this 
pageant  lay  with  the  English  king,  whose  neglect  to 
support  his  ally  had  rendered  this  scene  of  abject 


Blanche's  ascendancy  over  st.  louis.  279 

submission  the  only  road  to  safety  which  the  desert- 
ed prince  could  pursue. 

England  being  thus  occupied  with  her  internal 
quarrels,  the  Queen-mother  Blanche  met  with  no 
interruption  from  that  quarter,  while  she  extended 
the  power  of  her  son  over  the  discontented  vassals 
whose  object  it  had  been  to  restrict  it.  But  with 
her  grandmother  Eleanor  of  Aquitaine's  mascuhne 
energies  of  disposition,  Blanche  possessed  no  small 
share  of  her  ambition.  She  was  in  no  hurry  to 
surrender  to  her  son  the  supreme  power  which  she 
had  administered  so  well ;  nor  did  the  dutiful  Louis, 
though  now  approaching  his  twenty-first  year,  seem 
impatient  to  take  upon  himself  the  character  of  go- 
vernor. On  the  contrary,  although  he  assumed  the 
name  of  sovereign,  yet  he  continued  to  yield  to  the 
queen-mother,  at  least  in  a  great  measure,  the  actual 
power  of  administration. 

It  was  said,  that  this  deference  to  maternal  autho- 
rity, more  implicit  than  was  becoming  for  him  to 
yield,  or  his  mother  to  exact,  arose  from  his  having 
been  educated  more  like  a  monk,  to  whom  strict 
obedience  is  one  great  duty  enjoined,  that  like  a 
sovereign,  v/ho  was  not  only  to  think  for  himself, 
but  to  decide  upon  the  actions  of  others.  Signs  of 
this  monastic  education  were  to  be  seen  in  the  bigot- 
ed attachment  with  which  the  future  saint  regarded 
every  thing  either  really  religious,  or  affecting  to  be 
so  ;  and  the  narrowness  of  his  mode  of  thinking  in 
this  respect  led  to  the  principal  misfortunes  of  his 
reign.  It  is  possible,  however,  that  committing  his 
education  almost  entirely  to  churchmen,  might  be  a 
measure  adopted  as  much  from  the  queen-mother's 
own  superstitious  feeUngs,  as  from  a  desire  to  keep 
her  son  in  the  back  ground. 


280  Blanche's  jealousy. 

Blanche's  jealousy  of  those  of  her  own  sex  who 
approached  her  son,  and  sought  to  please  hira,  was 
not,  perhaps^  an  extraordinary,  though  an  inconve- 
nient excess  of  maternal  fondness.  But  she  was 
singularly  unreasonable  in  extending  her  jealousy  to 
her  son's  wife,  a  beautiful  woman,  Margaret,  one  of 
the  daughters  of  Raymond  Berenger,  Count  of  Pro- 
vence. The  servants  of  the  household  had  orders, 
when  the  king  and  queen  were  in  private  together, 
to  whip  the  dogs  which  were  about  the  royal  apart- 
ment, so  that  the  cries  of  the  animals  might  give  the 
queen-mother  a  hint  to  burst  in  on  the  retirement 
and  privacy  of  her  son  and  his  wife.  The  young 
queen  reproached  her  mother-in-law  with  this  jea- 
lous vigilance  ;  and  when  Blanche  caused  Louis  to 
remove  from  the  apartment  in  which  his  wife  was 
about  to  be  confined,  "  You  will  not  let  me  speak 
with  my  husband,"  said  Margaret,  "  whether  living 
or  dying." 

The  docility  of  the  son,  in  a  case  where  he  had  a 
reasonable  excuse  for  resistance,  seems  to  have 
been  carried  to  an  amiable  excess.  Yet,  it  is  cer- 
tain, that,  whether  her  conduct  in  this  particular 
arose  out  of  policy  or  mistaken  fondness,  the  love  of 
Blanche  for  her  son  was  equally  sincere  and  mater- 
nal. In  the  bias,  however,  which  his  mind  had 
taken  towards  a  strict  interpretation  of  his  duties  in 
morality  and  religion,  tinged  as  the  latter  was  with 
the  superstition  of  his  age,  it  was  plain  that  the  first 
impulse  which  Louis  might  consider  as  a  direction 
from  heaven,  would  induce  him  to  fall  into  the  pre- 
vailing error  of  the  time,  by  assuming  the  cross,  and 
departing  for  the  Holy  Land. 

Accordingly  a  sudden  illness,  in  which  he  remain- 
ed insensible  for  the  space  of  twenty-four  hours 


LOUIS    ASSUMES    THE    CROSS.  281 

struck  the  young  king  with  such  alarm,  that  he  took 
the  cross  from  the  hands  of  the  Archbishop  of  Paris, 
and  made  a  solemn  vow  to  march  in  person  against 
the  infidels  with  a  royal  army.  It  was  in  vain  that 
the  wisest  of  his  ministers  pointed  out  to  Louis  the 
disasters  which  his  predecessors  had  sustained  by- 
such  imprudent  and  ill-fated  engagements.  Even  his 
mother,  though  his  departure  must  restore  her  to  full 
power  as  regent,  in  name  as  well  as  authority,  dis- 
suaded her  son  from  this  fatal  enterprise. 

In  reply,  the  king  maintained,  that  as  he  had  con- 
tinued to  recover  hourly  since  his  vow  was  taken, 
the  purport  of  it  must  of  course  have  been  agreeable 
to  the  divine  will ;  and  he  would  only  promise  that 
he  would  endeavour  to  arrange  the  preparations  for 
his  enterprise,  at  full  leisure,  and  with  as  much  pre- 
caution as  should  secure  its  success,  and  the  safety 
of  his  dominions  during  his  absence.  He  obtained 
from  the  church  a  grant  of  the  tenth  of  their  revenues, 
to  sustain  the  expense  of  his  undertaking.  Gradu- 
ally, too,  he  prevailed  upon  many  of  the  nobihty, 
and  among  these  the  Count  of  Marche  and  the  Duke 
of  Bertagne,  two  of  the  most  powerful  and  turbulent 
of  their  number,  to  follow  his  example,  and  accom- 
pany him  to  the  East. 

The  motions  of  the  future  saint  were  arrested 
during  his  preparations,  by  the  arrival  at  his  court  of 
Richard,  King  of  the  Romans,  brother  of  Henry  III. 
of  England,  with  an  embassy  from  that  power.  "  Sir 
King  of  France,"  said  this  distinguished  envoy, 
"  you  cannot  undertake  to  wage  a  holy  war  against 
the  infidels,  until  you  do  justice  to  your  brother  of 
]*>ngland,  bereft  as  he  has  been  by  your  father  of  the 
provinces  belonging  to  him  in  France." 

The  King  of  France  was  so  much  startled  at  this 
24* 


282  CAPTURE    OF    DAMIETTA. 

objection  to  his  purpose,  that  he  referred  the  case, 
as  a  scruple  of  conscience,  to  a  conclave  of  Norman 
bishops  ;  and  it  was  not  till  they  formally  gave  their 
opinion  that  no  restitution  should  be  made,  that 
Louis  declined  the  request  of  the  King  of  the  Ro- 
mans. 

King  Louis  now  prepared  for  his  crusade,  and 
departed,  carrying  with  him  his  young  wife,  although 
the  instance  of  Philip  le  Jeune  was  a  bad  example 
to  recommend  such  a  policy.  Robert  and  Charles, 
his  two  brothers,  also  accompanied  the  king  in  his 
adventurous  expedition.  Passing  down  the  Rhone 
from  Lyons,  he  embarked  from  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean,  and  landed  at  Cyprus  ou  the 
25th  September,  1274.  It  was  his  purpose  to  ^274] 
proceed  from  thence  in  the  spring,  in  order  to 
invade  the  kingdom  of  Egypt ;  for  experience  had 
made  it  obvious,  that,  although  Palestine  might  be 
conquered  for  a  season,  it  could  never  be  effectually 
protected  or  defended,  as  an  independent  Christian 
state,  until  the  infidels  should  be  deprived  of  the 
populous  and  rich  kingdom  of  Egypt,  which  lay  so 
near  the  Holy  Land.  The  number  of  his  army 
amounted  to  about  fifty  thousand  men,  of  which  it 
was  computed  there  were  ten  thousand  cavalry  ;  and 
they  disembarked  in  safety,  as  they  had  proposed, 
before  the  town  of  Damietta. 

Here  Louis,  who,  with  all  his  superstition,  dis- 
played a  great  fund  of  personal  worth  and  bravery, 
sprung  into  the  sea  in  complete  armour,  waded 
ashore  among  the  foremost,  with  the  Oriflamme  dis- 
played, and  made  good  his  landing  in  spite  of  twenty 
thousand  men,  by  whom  the  shore  and  city  of  Da- 
mietta were  defended.  The  invaders  seized  upon, 
and  garrisoned  the  city,  which  was  opulent,  exten- 


CAPTURE    OF    DAMIETTA.  283 

sive,  and  well  fortified.  Louis,  with  wise  precau- 
tion, took  into  his  custody  the  magazines  which  they 
had  acquired  in  the  storm  which  followed  the  cap- 
ture ;  but  the  subordinate  leaders  of  the  crusade 
were  dissatisfied,  contending  that,  on  such  occasions, 
the  share  of  the  commander-in-chief  was  limited  to 
one-third  of  the  spoil,  and  that  the  rest  belonged  to 
his  associates.  This  introduced  dissatisfaction  and 
insubordination  among  the  feudal  lords,  and  greatly 
affected  Louis'  authority. 

Want  of  discipline  being  thus  introduced,  it  was 
speedily  perceived  that  the  army  of  Saint  Louis  was 
not  of  better  morals  than  those  of  other  crusaders, 
and  the  utmost  licentiousness  was  practised,  under 
the  countenance  of  some  of  the  courtiers,  within  a 
stone's  cast  of  the  king's  own  paviHon.  In  the  mean- 
time, the  crusaders  remained  in  Damietta,  waiting, 
first  for  the  abatement  of  the  inundation  of  the  Nile, 
and  thereafter  for  the  arrival  of  Alphonso,  Count 
of  Poitiers,  who  had  been  separated  from  his  bro- 
ther by  stress  of  weather,  or,  as  others  say,  had 
been  later  than  Louis  in  setting  out  from  France. 
This  prince  arrived  at  length ;  and  Louis  resolved 
to  sally  from  the  city,  for  the  purpose  of  marching 
to  Grand  Cairo,  which  the  invaders  termed  Babylon. 
But  the  river  Nile,  which  the  Christians  believed  to 
come  from  the  terrestrial  Paradise,  was  at  that  time 
still  in  flood,  and  interrupted  their  march  on  every 
side.  One  broad  canal,  in  particular,  opposed  their 
passage.  As  they  had  neither  boats  nor  bridges, 
the  crusaders  attempted  to  cross  the  canal  by  means 
of  a  mound — an  awkward  contrivance,  in  which  they 
totally  failed. 

While  engaged  in  this  fruitless  labour,  the  Chris- 
tians were  opposed  at  every  turn  by  the  light-armed 


284   DEATH  OF  THE  COUNT  OF  ARTOIS. 

Saracens,  who  attached  the  military  engines  by 
which  they  endeavoured  to  cover  their  passage, 
with  balls  of  Greek  fire,  a  species  of  inflammable 
matter  shot  from  the  artillery  then  in  use,  extremely 
difficult  to  quench,  and  which  flew  through  the  air, 
resembling  in  appearance  a  fiery  dragon.  Saint 
Louis  himself  seems  rather  to  have  sought  refuge  in 
his-  tears  and  devotions,  than  in  attempting  to  stop 
the  conflagration.  The  crusaders  were  obliged  to 
renew  the  engines  which  had  been  destroyed,  with 
such  part  of  the  ships  as  could  be  dismantled  for 
that  purpose.  The  Count  of  Artois,  with  impru- 
dent valour,  found  at  length  the  means  of  passing 
the  canal  at  a  dangerous  ford  ;  and,  instead  of  halt- 
ing till  he  was  supported,  rushed  on  with  two  thou- 
sand horse,  and  forced  his  way  into  the  village  of 
Massoura,  where  the  Saracens  gave  themselves  up 
for  lost. 

But  their  troops  being  raUied  by  a  valiant  soldier, 
who  was  afterwards  raised  to  the  rank  of  sove- 
reignty, the  advanced  party  of  the  Count  of  Artois 
were  enclosed  within  the  village.  The  inhabitants 
poured  on  them  stones,  javelins,  arrows,  scalding 
water,  and  all  sorts  of  missiles,  from  the  roofs  of  the 
houses,  which  were  flat,  and  well  adapted  to  this 
species  of  defence.  Most  of  the  Christians  were 
slain  ;  and  the  Count  of  Artois,  after  having  for 
some  time  defended  himself  in  one  of  the  houses  of 
the  village,  at  length  fell  lighting  valiantly. 

The  king,  to  whom  his  brother's  death  was  re- 
ported, wept  bitterly  for  the  loss  he  had  sustained  ; 
and  was  much  grieved  when  he  heard  that  the  chief 
of  the  Saracens  displayed  the  coat  of  armour  of  the 
fallen  prince,  as  if  it  had  been  that  of  the  king  him- 
self.    Although  the  French  had  the  worst  in  this 


CARNAGE    IN     THE    FIELD    OF    BATTLE.         285 

unequal  and  confused  battle,  their  chivalry  main- 
tained the  reputation  which  it  had  in  Europe.  Louis, 
surrounded  by  several  Saracens,  defended  himself 
against  them  all  ;  and  when  six  of  the  principal 
Mamelukes  took  shelter  behind  a  heap  of  stones, 
from  the  shot  of  the  French  cross-bows,  to  which 
they  replied  with  arrows  and  Greek  fire,  a  stout 
priest  called  John  de  Waysy,  clad  in  his  cuirass  and 
head-piece,  and  armed  with  his  two-handed  sword, 
rushed  on  them  so  suddenly,  that,  astonished  at  his 
resolution,  they  dispersed  themselves  and  fled.  But 
notwithstanding  these,  and  many  other  feats  of  arms 
highly  honourable  to  the  crusaders,  the  losses  of  the 
Saracens  were  easily  replaced  ;  whereas  every  sol- 
dier that  fell  on  the  part  of  the  French,  was  an  irre- 
parable loss. 

A  subsequent  action,  in  which  the  Greek  fire  was 
showered  upon  the  Christians,  so  that  it  covered 
even  Louis'  own  horse,  and  burnt  whatever  was 
opposed  to  it,  both  men  and  military  engines,  com- 
pleted the  disasters  of  this  unfortunate  army.  The 
invaders  were  now  reduced  to  a  defensive  warfare  ; 
and  this  was  sustained  at  the  greatest  disadvantage. 
A  dreary  duty  remained,  after  these  battles  were 
over.  The  king,  says  his  historian  Joinville,  hired 
a  hundred  labourers  to  separate  the  bodies  of  the 
Christians  from  those  of  the  pagans ;  the  former 
were  interred  ;  the  Saracens  were  thrust  under  the 
bridge,  and  floated  down  to  the  sea. 

"  God  knows,"  says  the  gallant  knight,  "  how 
noisome  was  the  smell,  and  how  miserable  it  was  to 
see  the  bodies  of  such  noble  and  worthy  persons  lie 
exposed.  I  witnessed  the  chamberlain  of  the  late 
Count  of  Artois  seeking  the  body  of  his  master,  and 
many  more  bunting  after  tiiose  of  their  friends  ;  but 


286     RETREAT  OF  THE  FRENCH  ARMV. 

none  who  were  exposed  to  the  infectious  smell,  while 
engaged  in  this  office,  ever  recovered  their  health. 
Fatal  diseases  in  consequence  broke  out  in  the 
army  ;  their  limbs  were  dried  up  and  destroyed,  and 
almost  all  were  seized  with  a  complaint  in  the  mouth, 
from  which  many  never  recovered."  The  scurvy, 
which  is  intimated  by  this  last  disease,  made  fright- 
ful ravages  Among  the  crusaders,  a  part  of  whom 
were  now  cooped  up  in  Damietta,  or  under  its  walls. 
The  Saracens  dragged  their  armed  galleys  across 
the  land,  and  launched  them  in  the  Nile,  beneath  the 
city,  which  was  thus  blockaded  by  land  and  water. 
Provisions  were  extremely  scarce,  and  the  eels  of 
the  river,  which  fed  upon  the  numberless  dead 
bodies,  became  the  principal  subsistence  of  the 
French  army,  and  increased  the  pestilential  disease. 

The  condition  of  the  Christians  became  now  so 
desperate,  that  Louis  resolved  to  retreat  to  Da- 
mietta, and  call  in  all  the  outposts  and  vanguard  of 
his  army,  which  were  on  their  march  to  Cairo.  The 
king  himself  might  have  made  his  retreat  in  safety  by 
water ;  but  it  was  no  part  of  his  plan  to  desert  his 
army.  He  himself  quitted  his  own  battalion,  and, 
with  Sir  Geoffiey  de  Sergines,  joined  the  rear  divi- 
sion, thus  continuing  his  countermarch  as  far  as  the 
town  of  Casel.  In  the  latter  part  of  his  retreat,  the 
Turks  came  so  close  upon  him,  that  Sir  Geoffrey  was 
obliged  to  drive  them  off  with  strokes  of  the  blade 
and  point  of  his  sword  ;  at  length,  the  unfortunate 
prince  was  reduced  to  such  a  state,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  lie  down  with  his  head  in  the  lap  of  a  fe- 
male, who  had  come  from  Paris  ;  he  expected  every 
moment  to  die  in  that  posture. 

Walter  de  Chatillon,  with  the  constancy  of  a  gal- 
lant knight,  planted  himself  alone  at  the  door  of  the 


LOUIS    AND    HIS    ARMY    TAKEN    CAPTIVE.      287 

house  in  which  the  king  lay,  attacked  every  infidel 
who  passed,  and  put  them  repeatedly  to  flight.  The 
king,  who  saw  him  rush  to  the  attack  alone,  bran- 
dishing his  sword,  and  rising  in  his  stirrups,  exclaim- 
ed, in  his  hour  of  distress,  "  Ha,  Chatillon  !  gallant 
knight,  where  are  all  our  good  companions  ?"  The 
faithful  knight  was  at  length  overpowered  by  num- 
bers, and  his  fate  made  known  by  the  condition  of 
his  horse,  which  was  seen  covered  with  blood  in  the 
possession  of  a  Saracen,  who  claimed  the  merit  of 
having  slain  its  gallant  master. 

In  the  meantime,  most  of  those  who  had  fled, 
rather  than  retreated,  towards  Damietta,  had  already 
been  slaughtered  by  the  Saracens,  or  had  delivered 
themselves  up  to  captivity.  Scarcely  even  the  de- 
plorable catastrophe  of  Louis  le  Jeune  was  more 
unfortunate  in  its  consequences,  than  the  termina- 
tion of  the  last  crusade  but  one,  prepared  for  with  so 
much  care,  and  ending  with  so  much  wretchedness. 
The  king,  his  remaining  brother,  many  princes  of 
the  blood  royal  and  high  noblesse,  and  the  wreck  of 
his  noble  army,  fell  as  captives  into  the  hands  of  the 
infidels,  and  were  treated  with  the  most  atrocious 
severity. 

Upon  the  first  surrender  of  the  prisoners,  the  only 
choice  assigned  them  was  that  of  embracing  the 
Moslem  faith,  or  submitting  to  instant  death ;  and 
by  far  the  greater  part  adopted  the  choice  of  martyr- 
dom. When,  however,  it  began  to  be  discovered 
that  most  of  the  prisoners  had  the  means  of  paying 
a  high  ransom,  the  barbarians,  into  whose  hands 
they  fell,  became  more  desirous  of  lucre  than  of 
bloodshed,  and  exchanged  for  ransom  most  of  those 
who  were  able  to  comply  with  their  demands.  The 
Sultan  of  Egypt  began  also  to  reflect  that  Damietta 


288  MERCENARIES    IN    THE 

was  Still  garrisoned  by  the  Christians,  and  might 
safely  apprehend  their  retaining  it,  till  succours 
should  come  from  Europe.  These  considerations 
made  him  desirous  of  an  accomodation,  by  which  he 
should  rid  Egypt  of  its  troublesome  visitors. 

But  the  nature  of  the  government  to  which  that 
country  was  now  subjected,  rendered  the  fate  of  the 
prisoners  extremely  uncertain,  and  precarious  ;  but 
to  enable  you  to  understand  the  circumstances  in 
which  they  were  placed,  it  is  necessary  to  explain 
what  the  nature  of  that  government  was. 

Touran  Shah,  the  reigning  sultan  of  Egypt,  was  a 
great-grandson  of  the  brother  of  the  famous  Saladin, 
whom  we  have  seen  the  opponent  of  Richard  Coeur 
de  Lion  ;  but  the  followers  of  these  sultans  had  been 
rendered  effeminate  by  the  pleasures  of  a  rich  coun- 
try, and  were  no  longer  capable  of  engaging  in  bat- 
tle, or  attaining  victory  over  such  rugged  opponents, 
as  King  Louis  and  his  Franks.  To  supply  this 
general  deficiency  of  courage  and  spirit  in  their  sol- 
diers, the  preceding  Sultans  of  Egypt  had  been  ac- 
customed to  levy  chosen  troops  from  the  numerous 
bands  of  slaves,  which  they  bought  on  the  verge  of 
Tartary,  or  in  other  foreign  countries.  These,  chief- 
ly Georgians,  Circassians,  and  the  like,  were  select- 
ed while  children,  for  their  form  and  strength,  care- 
fully educated  in  martial  exercises,  and  taught  to 
understand  from  early  years  that  their  distinctions 
in  life  must  depend  upon  the  undaunted  use  which 
they  should  learn  to  make  of  their  spears  and  scimi- 
tars. They  were  allowed  high  pay  and  great  privi- 
leges, and  those  who  distinguished  themselves  were 
raised  to  the  rank  of  officers  over  the  others.  From 
these  chosen  troops  the  sultan  selected  his  viziers, 
generals,  lieutenants,  and  governors. 


SERVICE    OF    THE    SULTAN.  239 

As  has  been  always  found  the  case  in  similar 
instances,  this  body  of  mercenary  soldiers  became 
dangerous  even  to  the  prince  in  whose  service  they 
were  enrolled,  and  frequently  assumed  the  right  of 
disposing  of  the  crown,  which  they  were  engaged 
to  defend,  as  well  as  the  life  of  him  that  wore  it.  It 
was  they  who,  with  such  determined  valour,  had 
interrupted  the  advance,  and  followed  up  the  retreat, 
of  the  valiant  Franks  ;  and,  filled  with  a  high  idea 
of  their  own  prowess,  and  a  contempt  of  the  native 
troops  of  the  country,  they  thought  that  Touran 
Shah  was  not  sufficiently  grateful  to  them  for  the 
victory  which  he  had  obtained  by  their  support,  or 
that  he  manifested  some  intention  of  laying  them 
aside  for  a  more  docile  soldiery. 

Of  this  unfortunate  sultan  we  know  little  ;  but  he 
appears  neither  to  have  been  destitute  of  the  bravery 
nor  the  generosity  which  became  a  successor  of 
Saladin.  The  valiant  Sieur  de  Joinville  saw  him 
in  the  front  of  battle,  taller  by  the  shoulders  than 
those  around  him,  and  wielding  with  courage  the 
German  sword  which  he  bore  in  his  hand.  Hia 
gilded  helmet  was  placed  proudly  on  his  head ; 
"  and  I  never,"  says  the  historian,  "  saw  a  more 
gallant  man  under  arms."  Nor  was  his  conduct 
less  princely  than  his  appearance.  At  first,  indeed, 
the  French  in  their  captivity  were  threatened  with  a 
terrific  death  by  torture,  unless  they  would  renounce 
the  Christian  faith  to  ensure  their  personal  safety. 
Such  a  proposal,  under  such  tremendous  threats, 
was  made  to  the  king  himself.  But  when  Saint 
Louis  showed  by  his  firmness  that  he  held  such 
menaces  in  scorn,  the  Saracen  prince  sent  a  mes- 
sage in  a  milder  tone,  demanding  to  know  what 
ransom  the  captive  monarch  was  willing  to  pay,  io 

VOL.  I.  25 


290  NEGOTIATIONS    FOR    RANSOM 

addition  to  the  surrender  of  Damietta,  which  was 
stipulated  as  one  indispensable  condition  of  his 
freedom. 

The  King  of  France  rephod,  that  if  a  reasonable 
ransom  was  demanded,  he  would  write  to  the  queen, 
who  was  still  enclosed  within  the  walls  of  Damietta, 
to  pay  it  for  him  and  for  his  army.  The  Saracens, 
whose  manners  permitted  of  no  admission  of  wo- 
men to  their  councils,  asked  with  surprise  to  what 
purpose  the  queen  should  be  consulted  in  such  an 
affair.  "  Have  I  not  reason  1"  answered  the  simple- 
mannered  and  gallant-hearted  Louis  ;  "  is  she  not 
my  wife  and  my  companion]"  A  second  message 
informed  the  captive  monarch  that  his  ransom  was 
fixed  by  the  sultan  at  a  million  of  golden  bezants — 
equul,  says  Joinville,  to  five  hundred  thousand 
livres. 

At  once,  and  without  attempting  farther  to  chaffer 
upon  the  bargain,  "  I  will  cheerfully  give,"  said 
Louis,  "  five  hundred  thousand  livres  for  ransom  of 
my  army  ;  and  for  my  own  I  will  surrender  the  town 
of  Damietta  to  the  sultan  ;  for  my  rank  is  too  high 
to  be  valued  in  money."  The  sultan  was  seized 
with  a  generous  emulation.  "  He  is  a  right  gene- 
rous Frank,"  said  Touran  Shah,  "  who  does  not 
cheapen  our  first  offer  like  a  merchant  or  pedler ; 
tell  him  I  abate  my  demand  in  one-fifth,  and  that 
four  himdred  thousand  livres  shall  be  a  most  suffi- 
cient ransom."  He  also  sent  garments  for  the 
king's  use,  and  seemed  disposed  to  part  with  him 
upon  liberal  terms. 

But  while  Touran  Shah  was  disposing  of  the  fate 
of  another,  he  little  knew  how  near  he  approached 
to  his  own.  The  discontent  of  his  body-guard  of 
slaves,  then  called  Haleuca,  and  the  same  which  are 


MURDER    OF    THE    SULTAN.  2f)l 

now  distinguished  by  the  well  known  name  of  Ma- 
melukes, had  risen  to  the  highest.  They  broke  out 
into  insurrection,  attacked  the  unfortunate  Touran 
Shah,  set  fire  to  his  pavilion,  and  cut  that  unfortu- 
nate prince  to  pieces. 

Having  committed  this  murder,  they  came  before 
the  king  and  the  French  captives,  with  their  bloody 
battle-axes  and  sabres  in  their  hands.  "  What  will 
you  give  me,"  said  the  foremost  assassin,  who  was 
yet  streaming  with  the  blood  of  Touran  Shah, 
"  who  have  slain  the  enemy  that  sought  thy  life?' 
To  this  Saint  Louis  returned  no  answer.  The 
French  knights  confessed  themselves  to  each  other, 
expecting  to  be  immediately  massacred.  Yet  in  the 
very  flushed  moment  of  their  king's  murder,  and 
while  seeming  still  greedy  of  more  blood,  the  con- 
spirators felt  restraint  from  the  dignified  demeanour 
of  their  disarmed  prisoner.  They  also  remembered 
that  Damietta  still  held  a  Christian  garrison,  which 
might  give  them  trouble.  Under  such  impressions, 
they  showed  indeed  a  disposition  sufficiently  mis- 
chievous, yet  they  entered  into  new  conditions, 
somewhat  similar  to  those  that  had  been  prescribed 
by  the  murdered  Touran  Shah,  but  stipulating  that 
the  king  should  take  an  oath,  binding  him  to  re- 
nounce his  baptism  and  his  faith,  with  the  inesti- 
mable privileges  purchased  by  them,  in  case  he  did 
not  comply  with  all  the  articles  of  the  treaty. 

Louis  constantly  and  magnanimously  answered, 
"  he  would  rather  die  a  good  Christian,  than  live  by 
taking  the  impious  and  sinful  oath  which  they  would 
force  upon  him."  The  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  who 
was  present  at  the  moment,  was  immediately  seized 
by  the  soldiers,  and  tied  to  a  post,  so  tightly,  that 
the  blood  sprung  from  his  hands,  while  the  old  man 


292       RANSOM  OF  LOUIS  AGREED  TO. 

in  agony  called  upon  the  king  to  swear  boldly  what- 
ever the  infidels  chose,  since  he  w  oiild  take  the  sin 
upon  his  own  soul,  rather  than  endure  this  horrid 
torture.  But  whether  the  oath  was  taken  or  not, 
Joinville  declares  he  cannot  tell. 

In  the  meantime  the  scene  suddenly  changed,  as 
was  not  unnatural  among  such  fickle  and  barbarous 
men.  A  mirthful  sound  of  trumpets  and  kettle- 
drums was  heard  before  the  tent,  and  King  Louis 
was  presented  with  an  invitation  from  the  chiefs  of 
the  late  conspiracy,  to  become  their  sultan  and  sove- 
reign, in  room  of  the  murdered  Touran  Shah.  That 
such  a  proposal  should  be  started,  among  other  v\^ild 
plans,  by  men  in  the  condition  of  the  Mamelukes, 
slaves,  strangers,  and  foreigners,  indifferent  to  the 
Mahometan  religion,  and  impressed  by  the  undaunt- 
ed bravery  of  their  royal  captive,  was  not  perhaps 
so  unnatural  as  if  it  had  been  made  elsewhere,  or  by 
others.  But  it  does  not  seem  to  have  been  generally 
embraced,  or  seriously  insisted  on.  On  the  con- 
trary, some  of  the  leading  emirs  were  of  opinion, 
that,  to  atone  for  the  treasonable  slaughter  of  Tou- 
ran Shah,  a  good  Mahometan,  by  their  hands,  it  was 
their  duty  to  put  to  death  Saint  Louis  and  his  fol- 
lowers, the  mortal  enemies  of  Mahomet  and  his 
religion.  At  length,  however,  the  proposition  for 
mercy  prevailed,  and  a  treaty  for  ransom  was  carried 
into  execution. 

While  these  strange  negotiations,  if  indeed  they 
can  be  called  such,  were  proceeding  in  this  wild  and 
uncertain  manner,  Joinville  informs  us  of  other  cir- 
cumstances respecting  the  Queen  of  France,  who, 
as  I  before  informed  you,  having  accompanied  her 
husband  in  this  calamitous  expedition,  was  enclosed 
with  the  remnant  of  the  crusaders   that   held  out 


DISTRESS    OP    THE    ^UEEN.  293 

Damietta.  She  was  at  that  time  with  child  ;  a  cir- 
cumstance adding  much  to  the  distress  of  her  situa- 
tion, during  her  husband's  captivity,  aggravated  by 
the  probability  that  she  herself  might  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  victorious  infidels.  Her  period  of 
confinement  was  now  close  approaching. 

"  Three  days  before  she  was  brought  to  bed," 
says  the  faithful  chronicler  of  the  expedition,  "  she 
was  informed  that  the  good  king  her  husband  had 
been  made  prisoner,  which  so  troubled  her  mind, 
that  she  seemed  continually  to  see  her  chamber 
filled  with  Saracens,  ready  to  slay  her ;  and  she 
incessantly  kept  crying,  '  Help,  help  !'  when  there 
was  not  a  soul  near  her.  For  fear  the  fruit  of  her 
womb  should  perish,  she  made  a  knight  watch  at 
the  foot  of  her  bed  all  night  without  sleeping.  This 
person  was  very  old,  not  less  than  eighty  years,  or 
perhaps  more  ;  and  every  time  she  screamed,  he 
held  her  hands,  and  said,  *  Madam,  do  not  be  thus 
alarmed  ;  I  am  with  you  ;  quit  these  fears.' 

"  Before  the  good  lady  was  brought  to  bed,  she 
ordered  every  person  to  leave  her  chamber,  except 
this  ancient  knight,  when  she  cast  herself  out  of  bed 
on  her  knees  before  him,  and  requested  that  he 
would  grant  her  a  boon.  The  knight,  with  an  oath, 
promised  compliance.  The  queen  then  said,  '  Sir 
knight,  I  request,  on  the  oath  you  have  sworn,  that, 
should  the  Saracens  storm  this  town  and  take  it, 
you  will  cut  off"  my  head  before  they  seize  my  per- 
son.' The  knight  replied,  that  he  would  cheerfully 
do  so,  and  that  he  had  before  thought  of  it,  in  case 
such  an  event  should  happen.  The  queen  was, 
shortly  after,  delivered  of  a  son  in  the  town  of 
Damietta,  whose  name  was  John,  and  his  surname 
25* 


994  LOUI8    ARRIVES    AT    ACRE. 

Tristan,  (*'.  e.  the  Sarf,)  because  he  had  been  born 
in  misery  and  poverty. 

"  The  day  he  was  born,  it  was  told  the  queen  that 
the  Pisans,  the  Genoese,  and  all  the  poorer  Euro- 
pean commonalty,  (sailors,)  that  were  in  the  town, 
were  about  to  fly  with  their  vessels,  and  leave  the 
king.  The  queen  sent  for  them.  '  Gentlemen,' 
she  said,  '  I  beg  of  you,  for  the  love  of  God,  that 
you  will  not  think  of  quitting  this  town  ;  for  you 
well  know,  if  you  do,  that  my  lord  the  king  and  his 
whole  army  will  be  ruined.  At  iQast,  if  such  be 
your  fixed  determination,  have  pity  on  this  wretched 
person  who  now  lies  in  pain,  and  wait  until  she  be 
recovered,  before  you  put  it  in  execution.'  " 

To  carry  her  solicitations  into  effect,  the  queen 
was  obliged  to  purchase-  provisions  to  feed  these 
wretched  mariners,  who  complained  that  they  must 
otherwise  perish  by  hunger  ;  and  the  sum  so  ex- 
pended amounted  to  two  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
livres,  the  difficulty  of  finding  which  was  an  aug- 
mentation of  her  distress. 

In  this  manner,  after  suffering  repeated  hardships, 
Louis,  his  queen,  and  his  lords,  were  at  length  per- 
mitted to  embark  for  Acre,  at  the  head  of  the  rem- 
nant of  his  army.  When  he  had  thus  arrived  on 
ground  where  he  might  consider  himself  as  perfectly 
free,  King  Louis  again  became  inspired  with  the 
rash  Quixotry  of  persisting  in  his  crusade.  The 
Christians,  or  Latins,  of  Syria,  found  it  their  interest 
to  foster  this  enthusiasm,  by  holding  out  remote  and 
fanciful  prospects  of  his  receiving  assistance. 

Louis  was  amused  with  wild  stories  of  the  Scheik, 
or  Chief,  of  the  Assassins,  who  was  supposed  pe- 
culiarly friendly  to  the  King  of  France,  and  of  an 
imaginary  prince,  a  Christian  by  profession,  and  :i 


DISORDERS    IN    FRANCE.  295 

Tartar  by  birth,  whom  these  times  termed  Prester 
John,  and  from  whose  ideal  assistance  LQuis  waa 
taught  to  expect  tho  means  of  retrieving  his  affairs. 
It  was  still  less,  however,  such  fallacious  hopes  of 
foreign  and  eastern  assistance,  than  a  sense  of  mor- 
tification as  a  devotee,  and  dishonour  as  a  true 
knight,  which  rendered  Louis  reluctant  to  return  to 
his  own  kingdom,  without  having  distinguished  his 
arms  in  some  victory  against  the  Mahometans. 

To  pave  the  way  for  this  much  desired  object, 
Louis  displayed  great  ability  and  diligence  in  allay- 
ing quarrels  among  the  Christians  in  Palestine,  for 
which  he  was  admirably  fitted  by  the  native  justice 
and  benevolence  of  his  character,  and  also  in  forti- 
fying Acre,  Csesarea,  Joppa,  and  other  places  of 
importance,  and  in  preparing  for  a  new  war  in  Syria. 

The  immediate  result  of  his  labours  was  highly 
useful  to  Syria,  insomuch  that  the  king  obtained  the 
honourable  title  of  Father  of  the  Christians.  But  in 
acting  towards  these  eastern  Latins  with  wisdom 
and  benevolence,  Louis  forgot  that  he  owed  a  still 
more  pressing  duty  to  his  own  kingdom,  where 
general  confusion  prevailed.  For,  while  Louis  thus 
pleased  his  fancy  by  providing  for  battles  in  Pales- 
tine that  were  never  to  be  fought,  the  disorders 
occasioned  by  the  news  of  his  captivity  had  thrown 
all  France  into  dismay. 

His  mother,  Queen  Blanche,  who  acted  as  regent, 
had  lost  in  some  degree  that  strength  and  altertness 
of  mind  which  distinguished  her  during  her  son's 
minority.  Upon  his  departure  from  Marseilles,  she 
fainted  on  bidding  him  adieu,  and  could  scarcely  be 
recalled  to  life, — showing  plainly  that  she  felt  her 
son's  absence  more  deeply  than  she  was  gratified  by 
her  own  elevation  to  authority.      Finally,  receiving 


296      DEATH  OF  THE  QUEEN  REGENT 

the  melancholy  tidings  of  his  defeat  and  imprison- 
ment, her  sorrow  seems  to  have  weakened  her 
understanding. 

She  suffered  a  wretched  monk,  somewhat  resem- 
bling one  of  those  bigots  who  led  the  first  expedition 
under  Peter  the  Hermit,  to  gather  together  a  rabble 
of  the  lowest  rank,  to  whom  he  tried  to  preach  a  new 
crusade,  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  the  liberation 
of  the  king.  The  disorderly  vagabonds,  thus  as- 
sembled, who  lived  at  first  upon  alms,  became  soon 
guiUy  of  plunder,  and  gave  rise  to  a  civil  war,  in 
which  they  were  at  length  defeated  and  extirpated 
by  the  forces  of  the  government,  but  not  without 
much  loss  and  confusion.  This  intestine  disorder 
was  likely  to  be  increased  by  a  war  with  England, 
upon  the  expiry  of  the  truce  between  these  countries. 

In  the  meantime  Queen  Blanche,  the  regent- 
mother,  became  altogether  broken-hearted  on  hear- 
ing of  her  son's  misfortunes,  and  retired  into  a 
convent,  where  she  died  of  m.elancholy.  Her  death 
was  naturally  a  subject  of  afHiction  to  King  Louis  : 
but  the  young  Queen  Margaret,  considering  the 
terms  on  which  she  stood  with  her  mother-in-law, 
could  scarcely  be  supposed  to  share  deeply  in  his 
affliction.  On  receiving  these  tidings,  Louis  yielded 
to  necessity,  and  prepared  to  return  to  France  with 
the  remains  of  his  army. 

During  his  voyage  from  Syria,  the  king  showed 
many  marks  of  sorrow  and  dejection,  the  conse- 
quences no  doubt  of  the  unsatisfactory  issue  of  his 
crusade  ;  his  temper  also  became  austere,  and  even 
gloomy,  of  Vvhich  the  following  is  an  instance.  At 
one  time  he  inquired  for  his  brother,  whom  he  ac- 
cused of  having  avoided  his  presence,  although  they 
were  both  in  the  same  galley. 


LOUIS    ARRIVES    IN    FRANCE.  297 


When  Louis  at  length  discovered  the  Comte  d* 
Anjou  in  the  act  of  playing  at  tables  with  Sir  Walter 
de  Nemours,  he  staggered  towards  them,  though 
scarcely  able  to  stand  from  severe  illness,  seized 
the  dice  and  tables,  which  he  flung  into  the  sea,  and 
severely  rebuked  his  brother  for  engaging  in  this 
trifling  amusement,  forgetful  of  the  death  of  their 
brother,  the  Comte  d'Artois,  and  of  the  extreme 
danger  from  which  they  had  been  providentially  ex- 
tricated. "  But,"  says  De  Joinville,  with  some 
naYvete,  "  Sir  Walter  de  Nemours  suffered  the  most, 
for  the  king  flung  all  the  money  that  lay  on  the  tables 
after  them  into  the  sea." 

When  Louis  arrived,  after  a  voyage  often  weeks, 
upon  the  coast  of  Provence,  he  was  persuaded  with 
difficulty  to  land  at  Hieres,  because  that  port  was 
not  his  own  property.  He  yielded,  however,  in 
consideration  of  the  illness  of  the  ladies,  and  once 
more,  with  diminished  forces,  and  somewhat  of 
a  tarnished  reputation,  resumed  possession  of  his 
own  kingdom.  His  melancholy  countenance,  in 
which  he  bore  the  deep  marks  of  dejection,  and  the 
plainness  of  his  dress,  in  which  he  never  assumed 
royal  splendour,  implied  how  much  he  had  suffered 
since  his  departure,  both  in  mind  and  body. 


END  Oy  VOLUME  I. 


3  1158  01168  8867 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


I 


B     000  002  335     8 


